Parachute
by LabontesGirl43
Summary: Vegeta needed activity. Bulma craved stillness. Still, he knew that he would cave to her. Because this was her home. Her planet. And as much as Bulma tried to make this his home as well, Vegeta knew he would always just be the evil Saiyan alien.
1. Stillness

Chapter 1)

She was paralyzed. The more she tried to will her feet to run the harder she found it was to even contemplate the action. Her throat was swelled shut, the inability to scream tormenting her brain in a way of psychological torture. He walked towards her, slowly, with purpose. Knowing she had no where to go, knowing she had no one to come save her. She could feel the beads of sweat forming at her brown as she again prayed to any one listening to get her out of this situation. All hope was lost though as he snaked a pale green hand out to wrap itself around her waist. His cold fingers digging into her soft skin, instantly bruising her. He pulled her towards him, her feet seemingly willingly moving her body for her as she tried to protest. He chuckled darkly, seeing the agony in her eyes. His face was very much human, but everything about his screamed monster.

"What's wrong Princess?" he whispered in a tone that may come across as seductive had it been anyone else. Anyone human. He used his other free hand to slide across he contours of her stomach, tracing a sick line from her naval, between her breasts, and resting on her collar bone. She bit her lip finding it the only release she was allowed from this torture. He laughed as he leaned his face down close to her neck. Inhaling the scent she gave off. "Don't you want this?" he teased as he nipped at her ear, drawing blood while pain surged through her nerves. Her mind shook and screamed while her body betrayed her with it's stillness. She never even feel him move as suddenly her shirt was torn from her body and his hand was on her again. Roughly squeezing her breasts until she felt she would pass out from the pain. Instead her face remained impassive. He snaked his tongue across her lips demanding entrance as he forced her knees apart with a single motion, instantly breaking her left hip in the process. Her chest pounded wildly begging for this to be over, defeat at the situation filling her soul. She was too weak to stop him. He would use her and kill her. She closed her eyes as tight as she could trying to ignore the sudden hardness rubbing against her center, trying to find it's mark.

"What's wrong Princess?" suddenly the voice changed to a more familiar husky sound. Vegeta's voice pounded in her ears forcing her to open her eyes, only to be met with the cold pink ones of Cell smiling back at her as he shoved the length of him inside of her. Finally she was able to scream as a blood curdling sound of death freed itself from her throat. "I thought you liked your men evil?"

Bulma shot up from bed her heart racing, the sheets glued to her body from the heavy coat of sweat she wore. She immediately felt with her fingers along her body. Checking for bruises, for broken bones, for any sign that the dream hadn't been a dream at all. That he had been there. Cell, coming after her. Attacking, molesting, raping and destroying her. She couldn't stop the tears from falling freely down her face though she refused to sob. The nightmares were becoming more frequent over the past few months though she had no idea why. She had never even met the monstrous Cell, never been within a dangerous distance of him, and still he tormented her. What was worse though, was when his voice switched to Vegetas. Sometimes he would have his face. Sometimes it would be his scent, his taste…but to hear his voice attached with that horror…

She glanced to her left and saw Vegeta lying on his back, staring directly at her. She wanted to jump again, but found herself paralyzing herself by her own fears.

"Cell?" he asked. His voice tense and accusing. She nodded knowing he didn't require or specifically want a more detailed answer. "He's dead Woman. He's been dead for six years now." She nodded again, dragging her knees up to her chin to bury her face in the blankets. She couldn't expect him to understand the true horror behind these nightmares. The statements that always concluded the dreams with his own personal touch.

"_I thought you liked your men evil." _

She felt the bed jerk and knew that Vegeta had gotten up. She twisted her head an inch to watch him stretch his back, the muscles tearing across his skin before grabbing a plain black tshirt from atop the dresser and throwing it on. _He must have slept in his training shorts_, she mused.

"Where are you going?" she asked when she finally found her voice despite already knowing the answer. The routine had been the same for a few years now but she always found herself wishing just once he would stay with her. Help her fall back asleep and protect her from the nightmares.

"To wake the boy." He glanced over his shoulder at the woman still sitting in the bed. Misery was etched in her face, her blue eyes wide with fear and panic. It reminded him too much of the females from planets he would purge. He knew how to cause this look, not cure it. "We'll be back for breakfast by seven." He gruffly said before pushing out the door.

Bulma looked at the clock sitting on Vegeta's bedside table and frowned. It was barely four in the morning. She knew she should try to fall back asleep but the effort felt useless. She would toss and turn without Vegeta there to calm her nerves. Even though he would physically do nothing to comfort her, just having him close made her feel safer. Sighing she tossed the sheets to the end of the bed and paced around the room, looking for some clothes in the dark. She was half dressed in a causal red dress when she decided she should probably take a shower. As she walked into their bathroom she distantly heard the sound of the gravity room powering on.

* * *

><p>Vegeta pinched the bridge of his nose as he walked the distance from his room to his sons. The woman's nightmares were becoming more violent as the nights passed. Months ago she had merely woken up slightly out of breath and a bit worried, but had fallen back to sleep fairly quickly. Now, she tossed and turned for hours. Screaming out in her sleep as twisted looks of horror flashed across her face. He would wake immediately, unsure how to rouse her but even more unsure of what to do once she was awake. He was confused as to why these nightmares plagued her. She had never had the pleasure of dealing with Cell first hand, and she lived in a house with two Saiyan males. She was more protected here than if she slept in a steel bunker with the army guarding her door.<p>

He rubbed his eyes as he approached Trunk's room, standing outside the door for a moment to collect himself and put the issue to rest. He hadn't been getting much sleep lately, staying alert to keep an eye on the woman as she tossed and turned, but he would not let exhaustion prevent him from fulfilling his goal. His son _had_ to be stronger than Kakarotts brats.

A deep sense of regret filled his chest as he thought of his former nemesis. Once again Kakarott had found a way to avoid partaking in the fight that would finally prove Vegeta's strength against the lower class Saiyan. A fight that would restore his honor for his people, his family, and himself. He cheeks automatically colored a bit in embarrassment at the fact that it had been Kakarott, not he, to defeat Freiza and end his terror on the galaxy. It had been Kakarott, _not_ Vegeta to first rise and ascend to the greatest honor of Super Saiyan, and it was Kakarotts half-breed brat that rose to the occasion and beat Cell while he helplessly stood by the side. Vegeta ground his teeth and straightened his shoulders. Yes, he may have been bested by a teenage half-breed but he would not let that be an issue any longer. He would not stop until he _and_ Trunks were once again rightfully place as rulers of the galaxy as the world's strongest fighters.

Vegeta twisted the knob and walked into his young sons bedroom and crossed his arms over his chest. The boy slept exactly like his mother did when she had a peaceful night. One arm draped over his eyes and the rest of his limbs spread apart as far as possible. Almost as if he'd fainted onto the bed. He cleared his throat and smirked when Trunks jumped straight into the air, his stance ready for an attack.

"I would say that was adequate except I was clearly able to just saunter in here with you still dead to the world. If I wanted to kill you, you'd be dead." Trunks lowered himself back to the floor and yawned, stretching his arms and back as he did, mimicking his fathers earlier movements. Vegeta carefully analyzed his son's current condition, debating with himself whether to push his son to the brink, or slightly past. The child's eyes sagged with sleep deprivation and his hair stuck up in several places. He desperately needed a shower, a long nights rest, and a warm meal but Vegeta knew these conditions would only spoil his son into thinking that peace would always exist. To Trunks' credit though, he never complained. He stood there silently and respectfully as his father gave him a once over.

"Are we practicing outside or inside today Dad?"

"Hn. Outside. I don't think your frail human limbs could tolerate much of the Gravity Room today. Trunks glared at his father.

"I'm not a frail human. I could easily withstand three hundred times this planets gravity." Vegeta smirked. It was the exact response he had been hoping for. It was times like these that Vegeta felt genuinely closer to the boy, as they mocked and looked down on the human race. As time passed he found himself tolerating their pathetic excuses for technology and strength, but it was lonely being the absolute best and having no one else to talk about it with. Bulma was under the impression that she was a genius. As while for this planet, yes she was considered beyond her generation, Vegeta knew of distant galaxies that made her look as if she had barely begun to think outside of the box. Not that Vegeta prided himself on his scientific research, he knew he was a warrior first and foremost, but after witnessing cultures that could build machines capable of restoring life and healing wounds in a matter of minutes…band aids and aspirin didn't seem very impressive. He had raised Trunks to be respectful of his human half, but to lay all pride on his Saiyan heritage. He was royalty after all, even if the planet was long dead and gone.

"Then quit your pointless mouthing off and get your ass to the training chamber."

* * *

><p>She sat at the table flipping through a magazine as another dozen waffles appeared in front of her, only to disappear a second later by greedy fingertips. The cooking bot immediately went back to preparing another batch trying it's best to keep up with the two famished Saiyans as they shoveled food into their mouths at lightning speed. Another page turned, another dozen waffles gone. She couldn't help but smirk as she glanced up from her words and caught sight of the man she had come to love so deeply. His cheeks bulging ungracefully, a dot of syrup glued to the corner of his mouth. In every way the man carried himself as a regal, except when it came time to eating. She once again wondered if this was a common trait for all Saiyans regardless of class, or if perhaps Goku and Vegeta ate this way because their parents were taken away from them before they were taught their table manners.<p>

A quick glance in the other direction gave proof towards her nurture over nature theory though as Trunks, while eating extremely quickly for a boy his size and age, managed to take bite sized portions, and thoroughly chew before putting more food in. The boy ate Saiyan portions, but at a human pace.

"More eggs?" she asked while handing the plate automatically to Vegeta. He grunted in acknowledgment before dumping the entire portion onto his own setting. Barely noticing the giant yawn that stretched across her entire face.

"Are you ok Mom?" Trunks asked in between bites. "You look tired." Bulma tried her best to smile as reassuringly as possible.

"I'm fine, just a bit sleepy. I'll take a nap a little later today. More importantly," she leaned forward, pushing her magazine off to the side. "We should talk about what you want to do for your birthday." Trunks eyes lit up in excitement until he heard his father stop chewing. He only needed to meet Vegeta's eyes for a moment before the message was received. _Only __**Humans**__celebrate birthdays._

"Um, that's ok Mom… I think I'm getting a little bit old celebrate my birthday." Bulma could hear the strain in his voice as he tried his best to lie convincingly. When she heard Vegeta's fork scrapping back against his plate she understood.

"Trunks, you're turning eight this year! You're supposed to have a party with all your friends, and cakes and presents…or we can go somewhere like an amusement park or the zoo…" Bulma sank back in her chair noticing sadly that disappointment etched itself deeper and deeper into the young boys face at every suggestion he would love to act on, but forbidden to do so. Bulma bit her bottom lip to keep from screaming as Vegeta slowly and deliberately scrapped the food off his plate before piling it in his mouth. Monitoring his sons response to his mothers suggestions. "Sweetheart why don't you take your plate in the living room and watch some cartoons? I want to talk to your father." Her voice dropped on the last word and both men's heads snapped up.

Vegeta was in no way afraid of the woman sitting next to him, but something in the glare she now gave him made him swallow just a bit harder than he intended. Trunks decided not to waste this rare opportunity and grabbed his plates before dashing off to the living room before his mother could change her mind. When he was out of earshot Vegeta set his fork onto his plate and pushed his chair back from the table.

"Vegeta."

"Yes?"

"Can you please tell me _why_ our son doesn't want a birthday party?" She folded her arms across her chest, a habit she long ago picked up from the man she now addressed. He shrugged and matched her arms with his own. Both parties silently alerting the other they were not backing down from this.

"Because it's a waste of time. Every year we throw him a stupid birthday party with all of _your_ friends attending where all they do is eat and talk and then leave. I can think of at least a thousand ways to better serve the time."

"Vegeta a birthday party is a celebration of the day you were born! It's a fun excuse to get together with friends and have a party. I wouldn't consider fun and socialization to be a waste of time."

"Of course _you_ wouldn't. Because when the time comes that a persons strength is tested _you_ are never anywhere to be found. The boy must train to become stronger."

"Trunks is only eight! What possible threat could come along that he would need to defeat? And better yet, what could possibly come along that would need him to fight alone? Are you honestly that paranoid of not being the best that you can't take a few hours once a year to have some fun?" Vegeta's face burned red as he turned his face away from her.

"Not every was able to grow up without reason to be paranoid." He spat. "Some of us were forced to learn at an early age that safety and peace were luxuries few and far between. Do not mock my reasons for training the boy when it will end up saving his life and most likely saving yours. I will raise my son as he would have been trained on _our_ planet. I will train him to be royalty and respected. I will train him to defeat the weakness of this mundane mud ball and I will train him to destroy our enemies!"

"So basically you're trying to turn him into you!" she shouted back. "News flash Vegeta, up until very recently you were MISERABLE with your life. Always fighting and worrying about who else is out there, who could possible be stronger…this…this intense dependence on your stupid pride… don't you ever miss smiling or laughing or just having fun? God Vegeta, I know I would love the chance to actually have some fun with you. Do you realize that we have NEVER been on a real date before? That we have NEVER done ANYTHING as a couple besides the fucking?" She shoved her chair back and stormed out of the room needing to get away from him. "I love you Vegeta…I honestly do…but sometimes I just wish you were more…human."

Vegeta felt as if he had just been slapped in the face. He let her leave, knowing that if he saw her again he wouldn't be able to contain his anger. Her words stung him deeper than she could possibly understand. He sat in the kitchen for what felt like hours mulling over her words as they tossed themselves around and around in his head. Was he really miserable? True, he had grown up a slave, forced to work for the creature responsible for destroying millions of lives, including those of his own family. He had been beaten, tortured, forced to watch horrible acts against humanity and been forced into partaking in things that were still unspeakable. He had lost his pride to a third class clown, tarnished his blood line with that of a human female, and had let himself fall to a place where said female was allowed to speak to him with such disrespect and remain alive. Was he miserable?

Yes.

But not with his past. He was Saiyan. He was from a race that thrived on the battle. Yearned for the blood of his enemies, and found excitement in the hunt. They never had any fun? Bulma could never stomach Vegeta's form of entertainment. Purging an entire planet…forcing the parents watch as their children begged for mercy. Fun was having the power to flaunt over everyone and seeing the recognition in their eyes as they realized how helpless they truly were. He struggled to understand her concept of fun. Sitting in a dark room silently listening to people play music? Sitting in another dark room silent to watch a movie? Sitting in a silent room watching other people walk around and talk? Humans found entertainment in laziness. In watching others partake while they lounged in silence. Vegeta needed activity. Bulma craved stillness. Still, he knew that he would cave to her. Because this was _her_ home. _Her_ planet. And as much as Bulma tried to make this his home as well, Vegeta knew he would always just be the evil Saiyan alien.

But he kind of liked it that way.


	2. Disgrace

2)

Vegeta leaned his head back against the wall, his body begging for him to slide down further into the bed and let sleep over take him but instead he fought to keep his eyes open and alert. Her shallow whimpers bit into the night, stinging him with every painful moan he knew he couldn't stop. His head rolled to the side as he watched her body twitch. Her legs bending and flexing, her toes curling while her fingers grabbed at the sheets. Twisting and bunching them into knots while her eyes fluttered wildly behind her lids. He sighed deeply, hating that he had no way to stop the hurt that was trapped inside of her own psyche. He related to her pain, his own nightmares had plagued him for decades leaving him in pools of blood and sweat, his breathing shallow and hoarse from the screams that broke free. He closed his eyes, trying to recall when exactly the terrors had stopped.

"Vegeta…" she whispered with a strained voice. His ears perked at the sound of his name. "Vegeta please…" she pleaded. Desperation dripping off from every syllable. "Please don't hurt me PLEASE!" she began shouting. His eyes snapped open and he twisted his body to face her. She continued to scream his name in fear, clawing and kicking at the sheets until she was more tangled than free. A knot formed in the base of Vegeta's stomach as he watched her suffering at his apparent own hands. He wanted to do something – anything – but had no idea what. He balled his fists and debated with himself if he should touch her. Afraid that right now if she woke up, seeing him in person may be the last thing she wanted.

"Damn it." He breathed knowing he had to make a decision. Wake the woman and deal with these night terrors head on, or let it ride out.

"PLEASE – NO!" she wailed, the sound of pure torment tearing his heart in two. He knew the sound only too well, echoes of lives past rang clearly in his head matching her cries of pain and desperation. How many times had he laughed at this noise? How many people had he sought out and brutally tortured just for the hope of hearing it. Once upon a time this misery shriek had been his lullaby. Keeping his mind whole and focused, he could use it to block out the horrors that was his own life as he used his pent up aggression on the weaker species. It made him smile knowing that while he could illicit these sounds from thousands, Freiza had never been able to hear it from Vegeta's lips once despite his best efforts.

He slid down into the bed until he was lying completely on his back. He couldn't remember the last time he just laid there and listened to the screams. His eyes began to sag as his old lullaby began to soothe him to the unconscious. Soon the old chorus joined in, drowning his mind in the life he'd left behind. He smiled as their sobs filled his mind, as if an old friend had returned at long last. For the first time in weeks Vegeta felt that he could finally sleep.

* * *

><p>Trunks gasped for air as he narrowly missed his fathers' fist flying past his head, embedding itself in the metal wall behind him. Having no time he threw himself to the side, jumping off the wall and shooting as fast as he could to the opposite side. He barely had a second to glance over his shoulder before Vegeta was on him again punch after punch, kicking and casting energy blasts directly at him. Trunks fought back with everything he had, the sweat building and pooling against his eyes as his fist met air after every strike. He growled in frustration as every attack was just a moment too late and every block was just a second too slow. He could tell Vegeta wasn't putting all his energy into his attacks but it didn't mean he was holding back by much.<p>

"Fight back!" Vegeta growled at his son as he pressed harder, forcing the boy into a defensive crouch against the wall. Trunks kept his arms up, blocking his face as his father slammed into his ribs, his chest, and his stomach. "Fight!" he yelled in frustration as a very audible break ripped through Trunk's chest. The boy yelled in pain but refused to drop his arms. Vegeta's eyes glazed over as he focused on the break, laying his attacks to the exact spot eliciting screams from the young Saiyan.

Vegeta laughed at each painful sound pushing harder, faster, raising his energy level as high as he could before turning Super Saiyan. He watched as his victim slid down the wall, his arms wavering in defeat as blood dripped from his wounds, the raspy breath of bruised lungs and broken ribs reached his ears. The adrenaline of victory coursed through Vegeta's veins as he raised his hand to build the ki blast that would end it all.

"Dad?" Trunks croaked out, his voice raw and cracked. The single word hit Vegeta harder than any attack he had every received. He closed his eyes, forcing his blood to settle and the feel of victory at death to pass. "Dad?" Trunks pressed again. Vegeta looked down at the boy cowering below him. Anger boiled to the surface at himself as well as his son. He had lost control, forgotten who he was sparring against. Forgot that the days of dealing a death blow were long past and his future of gentle spars was all he had to look forward to. Regret ate at his stomach as he wished that for just once more in his life he could experience that rush of extinguishing someone's life with his bare hands.

"Dad?" Trunks lowered his arms and Vegeta quickly glanced over the boy to assess the damage. His life eye was slightly swollen, and while his rib was indeed cracked, he didn't think it was broken. The boy was bloodied and bruised but would be fine in a day or two. Vegeta grunted and pushed himself up and away from Trunks.

"Go clean yourself up and take care of your wounds." He said as he turned his back on Trunks and started towards the door, grabbing a towel and slinging it over his shoulders. As he pushed the button to release the lock of the Gravity Room door he dragged his hand over his face, ashamed that things had gotten so out of control so fast. Vegeta walked down the hall towards the kitchen. Needing something to fill his stomach before he went back to training – solo. He knew he had crossed a line with his son today. The boy was half human after all and couldn't possibly be expected to be on the same level that a child of a pure blooded Saiyan decent would be. _But I've seen him in the future,_ he argued with himself. _He is strong. He's just not training hard enough._

* * *

><p>Bulma couldn't help but wish she'd thought ahead to bring some empty capsules with her. Her arms burned as the weight of the heavy bags weighed down forcing her to curl her arms as the plastic bore into her skin. Despite it though, she found herself in an excellent mood. Shopping was one of her favorite hobbies only second to modeling off her latest finds. Today though, she shopped for her little guy who was too quickly becoming her little man. She started by promising herself a two hundred dollar cap – after all, the boy didn't <em>need<em> anymore toys, and lately he seemed to be spending most of his free time with either Goten or training, but she still wanted to get him something extra special.

If she hadn't been daydreaming of Trunk's face when he opened the giant present she would have noticed the crack in the pavement that her heel was about to stick into. Instead she yelped as her heel caught under her, staying it's place as the rest of her body tumbled forward. Her bags heavily propelled themselves towards the ground dragging her behind them when two arms gripped her from behind, keeping her from falling face first into the sidewalk.

"Stupid lousy city streets…" she mumbled angrily as she caught her balance again. "Thank you for your help."

"That's all I get? A thank you?" Bulma's eyes widened in surprise as a deep familiar voice laughed in her ear. She turned around and smiled, having known that voice for longer than she cared to admit.

"Oh? What do you suppose would be appropriate given the situation then?" Yamcha laughed and let go of her arm, automatically reaching out to take the bags from her with ease. Bulma sighed in relief as the blood rushed back to her hands and had to fight from rolling her eyes at the cocky grin on her ex-boyfriends face as he carried all seven bags in one hand effortlessly. She had to admit though, ignoring the fact that compared to the Saiyan men in her life Yamcha was seen as completely weak and unfit to fight, for a human and by human standards he was completely incredible. His hair was cropped short against his head, wisps of gray beginning to peak their way through, salting his naturally onyx hair. Bulma grinned as she noticed for the first time the little lines around his eyes betraying his true age and human vulnerability to the world. It had been so long since she stopped to really look at another human that she almost forgot how most men her age looked. Vegeta's Saiyan youth seemed to linger forever. Even in his early 40's Vegeta still looked the same as he first did on Namek almost 20 years ago. _You're in your forties too…_ a small voice nagged inside her head. She refused to listen to it though. Even if she was in her forties and human she was still gorgeous.

"Hmm…I could think of a few ways you could repay me."

"Behave Yamcha, I'm a spoken for lady after all." She teased as she poked him in the chest. Turning away from him she began walking in her original direction, tossing him a look over her shoulder inviting him to come along.

"Speaking of which, where is your cohabitator?" Bulma brushed a lock of hair from her eyes before placing her hand on her hip.

"Where else? If the man isn't sleeping or eating he's training." she heard Yamcha snort and shot him a look. "What?"

"Nothing it's just…" he scratched the back of his head as a low blush coated his cheeks. "If I had you all to myself every day of my life there are plenty of other things I'd be doing besides training." Bulma smirked despite herself. Thirty years they had known each other and the man still couldn't keep a straight face without blushing when he even hinted to anything sexual.

"Oh please, you had me to yourself for many years if I recall, and you spent more than enough time training and doing _a lot _of other 'things'." Yamcha rolled his eyes.

"Give me a break B, I was a kid. You have to give me credit these past few years though." She nodded in agreement. While he may have been a difficult boyfriend in their teens, he really stood to the plate when she found herself alone and pregnant with Trunks. Doctors appointments, late night food cravings, he had even been the one to hold her hand during the labor. Whispering words of encouragement that she needed to hear – and more so – needed to believe. She always thought it was a shame that they met when they did with immaturity and inexperience ruled their lives.

"You're right, I'm just teasing. So what brings you down to the shopping strip anyways? Trying to find a hot date?" she nudged him in the side as that same blush crept to his cheeks.

"Actually, kind of. See my team is hosting this…recruiting party of sorts. For sponsors mainly but if the managers have their eyes on any particular players that are unsigned right now they're all going to be there as well. It's a great way to have the team interact socially and show the sponsors that we're more than just muscle heads. So I came down here to find a new suit for the occasion and maybe run into some lovely lady that would like to accompany me."

"Well then aren't you just lucky you ran into me! I know the perfect place to get you suited up." She almost sang as she grabbed his hand and began towing the larger man off towards a giant store.

Yamcha held his breath as she grabbed his hand, praying that she didn't notice the way his heart sped up just a bit or that his skin suddenly went a few degrees hotter. He knew it was a hopeless dream, but as he watched her eyes light up in excitement yammering on about different colors, fabrics, and styles he couldn't deny that he loved this girl. To most average people Bulma was nothing more than an heiress, a genius, and a looker. They saw her on the covers of magazines, giving speeches on new physics theories or walking down the red carpet in a one of a kind beautiful dress. To the average people, she was as posh and posh could be. To their little troupe though, to the men who were too incredible for this world and found themselves aliens to the people they protected Bulma was some loud mouthed harpy who occasionally had a thought trickle through her head. She was all glitz and glamour and no fight. Truth be, for many years he had also lugged her in that category. Obsessed with the fawning females who threw themselves to him with promises of pleasure, seduction, and temptation. It took losing her to that arrogant ape man to realize what he'd give up in exchange for a few phone numbers.

Bulma was fierce, having survived monsters, other worlds, and things that have only appeared in fairy tales. Not only did she survive against the odds, but she kept up with everyone else. When she couldn't fly, she built wings. When she couldn't fight, she built machines. She was a perfect balance of everything wonderful in the world and everyone, including her brainless lover, failed to appreciate her for what she was. An inspiration.

When Yamcha first held Trunks. Hours after he was born, his mother fallen asleep in her hospital bed he remembered having to fight the urge to throw the child from the window. Any child of Vegeta's after all would surely turn out to be just as evil. But when Trunks opened those eyes – her eyes – it suddenly didn't matter who the child's biological father was. He would die before seeing any harm come to Bulma and Trunks. He would provide for them, protect them, and love them with all he had. And to this day, despite Vegeta's return into their lives, he kept his promise.

It was hours later when they finally emerged from the store, several more bags piled high in Yamcha's arms as they laughed over memories thought to have been forgotten.

"Oh please B, you know as well as I do that you've always had a soft spot for Master Roshi. I mean, why else would you have flashed him your lady parts?" Bulma laughed as she playfully smacked him on the chest.

"You know perfectly well that I didn't mean to do that! Goku set me up to look like an idiot!" Yamcha rolled his eyes.

"You're right, the worlds most innocent child every purposefully set you up to flash your panties to the old man."

"Whatever, you weren't there." She wrapped her arms around herself as a chill wind blew by them, making Bulma notice for the first time how late it actually had gotten. "Crap, the boys are going to kill me…I should have been home hours ago to get dinner going." She dug into her small clutch and pulled out the only capsule currently rolling around the mass of credit cards and lipstick. Clicking it, her favorite hover car sprang to life, it's trunk waiting and open for her to drop in the day's latest finds. "Well," she said as she turned, her arms open to get the bags from Yamcha. "I guess this is goodnight then." She smiled and bit her lip as he pushed by her to put the bags down himself.

"This was a lot of fun B, thanks for going along with me and keeping me company." Yamcha smiled warmly as he opened his arms to her for a hug.

"Oh stop, you know I love shopping. I'm just sorry that we didn't find you a date for your big party!" she hugged him back standing on her tip toes to wrap her arms around his neck. Yamcha had to remind himself to breathe as she innocently let her body meld to his. Images of passionate nights past flooded his mind while the soft scent of her honey shampoo fluttered into his nose. He took a deep breath, memorizing the moment before slowly peeling her arms off of him and letting her get in the car.

"Bulma wait," he called out as she pushed the button to start the ignition. "Come with me to the party. It'll be fun you know? Two friends just hanging out…getting some drinks and free food…what do you think?" his eyes scrunched up in nervous anticipation. Bulma chewed on her bottom lip as she thought it over. The truth was she hadn't been out for any fun in years and the idea of going to a social event sound too good to be true. But—

"I'm not sure that's such a good idea Yamcha…Vegeta-"

"Yeah, no I get it. I already figured that but thought—well hey, no harm in asking right?" he shifted from foot to foot as he duh his hands in his pockets.

"Yamcha—"

"Hey I'll catch you later yeah?" he waved as he started back tracking away from the car. Before Bulma could open her mouth to say anything more he took off in the night. She shook her head as she started driving back home.

"That was weird."

* * *

><p>"Dad? Where's Mom?" The young Saiyan clutched his growling stomach as he scanned through the refrigerator looking for anything edible. "I thought she said she'd be home to cook dinner by six." Vegeta grunted from where he sat in the opposite room, lounging in a large chair as he watched the news on mute. He had learned after some years with Bulma that watching television was a decent way to relax after a long day but could never get into the romantic drama or reality shows she seemed fixated on. Instead he preferred the world news and occasionally the history channel. However, the narrators pissed him off to no end with their grating voices and ignorant views that their planet was the best, the biggest, and the only one worthy of life in the universe.<p>

"Your mother doesn't cook. She takes credit for having _other_ people cook the food and simply paying for it." Trunks stomach growled again and Vegeta contemplated turning the volume up just to block out the sound.

"Whatever, I'm starving. She said she'd be home by now." He furrowed his eyebrows and shut the fridge before sulking to the living room with his father and plopping himself on the floor. Vegeta watched his son from the corner of his eye. Sure the brat was going to start talking any moment just like his mother did when there was any sort of silence.

"Dad?" Vegeta rolled his eyes. Yes, he knew his family.

"Hn."

"Why do you let Mom scream?" Vegeta turned his head towards the young boy on the floor, now nervously picking at some lint in the carpet without raising his eyes to meet his fathers. The question had been on Trunk's mind for weeks now, since the screaming started getting worse. At first he had barely heard her whining since their rooms were so far apart. But his sensitive ears had still been able to pick up the distress in her tone. As hours trickled by and the noise only grew louder and more intense Trunks found he couldn't sleep. He knew his father was there with his mom, protecting her…except he wasn't.

"I don't _let_ her scream, the damn woman does what she wants regardless of anything I may say or do." He folded his arms across his chest and turned his attention back to the television hoping his son would drop it.

"Yeah but…I mean…it's getting worse and you just let her scream until she wakes up. I can feel her ki change when she finally wakes up." Vegeta rolled his eyes, his temper starting to rise at having to justify his actions to his seven year old son.

"Well maybe the next time you hear her screaming _you_ should come wake her up." Trunks turned to glare at his father but the man was already gone. The boy sighed as he grabbed the remote to change the channel, feeling his fathers ki heading quickly for the gravity room.

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><p>Vegeta cursed as he sat on the floor of the gravity room. He had come here to destroy some bots, kick the pillar to a metal mush, or do push ups until his arms broke. The anger boiled inside of him like molten lava, slowly building until it reached the surface and instead of letting it explode, he retreated and fought to keep it down.<p>

_I am not that man anymore_ he told himself, but the thought only pushed the fire higher. Who was he then? His life before had been so certain. He was Prince Vegeta of the Saiyans. He was a destroyer of planets, murderer of civilizations, and ruthless leader to his disposable subjects. He thrived on the hunt, the kill, the blood. Until he met that idiotic woman and somehow, she charmed her way into his life. A necessity at first, then a challenge, and now? Now she was more than he cared to label.

The boy was another story. He had never planned on children. Had sworn the idea of family off long ago. Not wishing to desecrate the noble Saiyan race with it's dirty blood…but also unwilling to accept the idea of having a woman around for longer than a night or two. No. A child was completely out of the question…and yet here he was. Babysitting, while the woman shopped.

He hung his head in disgrace. He didn't deserve to come in here with the intent to battle his aggression out. He was a changed man. He was growing less and less the Saiyan warrior and more and more the human husband. He turned his head to spit the taste of bile from his throat and rested his head against the wall. The woman would have to deal with her nightmares alone tonight. He was far too busy trying to live through his own.


	3. Shudder

A/N: I apologize for this taking so long to update. Life gets crazy with two jobs. Thank you all for your amazing reviews! I promise to stay more consistent with my updates.

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It had been a week since Bulma last saw Vegeta. The man had for no apparent reason locked himself away in the gravity room and refused to come out for any reason. Twice she had tried to contact him through the intercom and twice she had been met with a black screen and muted sound. Worry began to tug at her chest as she pinched the cigarette between her fingers a bit harder than normal. The room hadn't been turned on all week, her monitors had been able to tell her that much. It was as if he had just decided to live there for an untold amount of time.

Trunks had taken the disappearance the hardest, making it a point to stroll by the giant metal door just to check to see if it may have been opened in his absence. Bulma could see the hurt in her sons eyes as day after day he trained by himself in the front yard. Refusing to give up the routine he and his father had developed years ago. She watched him now through the large glass doors as the boy furiously kicked and punched at the wind, a sheen sweat coating his bare arms and forehead. She took another long drag on the cigarette before shaking her head and glancing down into her right hand. The sleek phone stay lit as its message bolded against the screen demanding and answer that she just didn't have.

_**B – The offer for the party tonight still stands. Please save me and come with? –Y**_

As she watched her son she wondered how it had come to this. She had left Yamcha because of his inability to take their relationship seriously, his unwillingness to play the dutiful part of devoted boyfriend, and if she were being completely honest with herself, because the thrill of dating a _bad boy_ had officially worn off and proven to be nothing more than a lot of lonely nights and forgotten dinner dates. Now, years later, she found herself in the same relationship she had worked so hard to rid herself from except this time the ass of a man was amplified by seven fold and the lonely nights stretched into lonely months.

She took a deep breath, forcing her mind to relax and not over think her relationship to the elusive Saiyan Prince. She had made up her mind years ago that he was who she wanted, faults and all. Yes, he wasn't romantic. Yes, he wasn't rich, and yes, he hated almost every person and thing on this planet save for his tolerance for herself and their son…but she knew that underneath all of his thick—VERY thick—layers, there was a man who truly loved his family.

She was confident in her decision…mostly. It wasn't until seeing Yamcha the other day, spending time with him in public, that she realized she missed the social side of a relationship. She missed going to parties, hosting events, walking down the street and being mobbed by the paparazzi.

_Oh the Paparazzi_

She took another inhale, finishing the cig off and flicked it in the garbage as she turned and walked away from the window, heading down the hallway lost in memories. It had been years she could remember anyone chasing her down the street, snapping photo's of her with lightning speed trying to catch a secret lover, a wardrobe snagfu, or a sneak peek as to what the Capsule Corp latest invention was going to be. When she had started her romantic relationship with Vegeta the papers had gone nuts! Trying their hardest to discover who this man was, where he came from, what he did, and how serious they were. Once she got pregnant with Trunks instead of swarming, most had backed off. Whether on principle or genuine lack of interest it seemed that an unwed thirty three year old mother was not front page topic.

Would it really be a crime if she had one last hurrah in society?

She glanced down at the phone she still clutched in her hand as her fingers drifted over the keys. Vegeta wouldn't approve. That much was certain. A smirk crept onto her lips as she could imagine what his response would have been. _"Hn. If you wish to waste your entire evening in the company of an utter failure of a man I would think you'd have the better taste to seek out the bald headed freak over the weakling."_

Except Yamcha wasn't a weakling.

And Vegeta wasn't actually here to disapprove.

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><p>He couldn't believe she had actually said yes. When his phone buzzed, hours after sending his original request, he was positive she was going to tell him as politely as possible, that it just wasn't a good idea. Instead she'd demanded he pick her up at 8, prompt. As the light on his dash board rudely reminded him that he was falling behind schedule he let his foot push the pedal to its limit. Bulma was not a woman to be kept waiting, and if Yamcha gained any knowledge from their years together it was that when Bulma said 8, she meant you should be there by 7:30 though you shouldn't expect her much before 8:45.<p>

He could see her house in the distance now, the giant corporation that loomed over the city and into the skies was enough to intimidate many of the city's residents. Whispers constantly flooded the streets of what Capsule Corp. really was building. Most of the citizens were convinced that the Android attacks all those years ago were actually a science experiment gone awry. When Cell had attacked, the sheer fact that footage of the Z-fighters, men who were common guests at the Brief residence, were seen at the arena was proof enough that the once proud technological tycoon was quickly becoming nothing more than a mad scientist lair as the young heiress took over. Her coming to the party with him would give her a chance to show the public that Bulma was more than a scientist, as well as give Yamcha an excuse to hold her again.

He blushed and coughed in nervousness as he finished the drive and pulled to her driveway. He knew thinking of her as more than a friend was wrong and insensitive, but he found he didn't really care.

He had barely opened the car door when he saw her begin to walk out towards him and he felt as if his heart stopped. She wore a floor length strapless black silk dress. Lace draped over the material, forming the snug dress to her body's exact contours. She wore simple, elegant pearl earrings that matched her drop pear necklace as it rested just above her cleavage line. Suddenly, despite his brand new designer suit and hair cut, he felt extremely under dressed and undeserving.

"You're too beautiful for your own good." He spoke honestly. She grinned and he was pleased to see that she wore minimal makeup.

"And you're too blunt." She walked towards him and he met her in a few strides, taking her hand in his own as he led her around the car to the passengers' side. He forced himself to focus on reciting the directions to the party location instead of the warmth of her hand in his own, or the way that she smelt of cherry and sage. Carefully as to not wrinkle or rip her dress she sat in the seat and looked up at him, her smile hitting him full force, his pants suddenly feeling several sizes too small.

"Shall we?"

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><p>It was no longer a choice. He knew this after his third day in this room, but still his pride would not concede. Mentally, he was exhausted as he tried to formulate valid reasons as to why his life was better now than ten years ago. Yes, he had given much to get to this point. Much of it he'd given reluctantly but the fact was – he'd given it.<p>

Frieza had taken everything from him. His family, his power, his respect…but the tyrant could never touch the Prince's pride. No. it was the damned blue haired woman that had asked him to relent his ways and change. Perhaps not in actual spoken words…but she had demanded his trust. His acceptance, and his promise to be there. To be the man she needed him to be.

Could he do it?

Could he relent his Saiyan pride and become…human?

He slammed his fist into the floor, denting the metal with an imprint of his knuckles as he stood and for the first time in more than a week he found himself walking to the door and entering the override code to release the locks. Yes. He would be more human, because he had tried life without her and had failed.

Damn that woman. He would never forgive her for this.

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><p>It had been hours! Hours of laughter, of stories, shaking hands and forgetting names as glasses of expensive wine were passed around freely to all of the guests. Bulma stood tall and proud as she felt the men's stares and their women's jealous snarls. They may have forgotten her, but after tonight Bulma Brief would not be overlooked as she strolled down the street. Yamcha had never left her side. As the dutiful attentive date he was always ready with a fresh glass of wine, whispering compliments in her ear, and letting her soak all the attention she needed while somehow managing to also get his personal business done with the team.<p>

By the third glass she could feel her limbs begin to weigh just a bit heavier. Her muscles relaxed and her head began to swim. She soon had to clutch Yamcha's arm just a bit tighter, keeping his body close to hers as an anchor to keep from stumbling. He never pulled away, instead he was quick to move his arm out from her own and slide it behind her back. When the music began to play she only had to grin before he whisked her off to the floor spinning her around, dipping her and having her glide across the dance floor. It had been far too long since she had fun like this and she couldn't stop from laughing in excitement as the hours drifted away in a swirl of drunken sways.

"You know that right B?" he chuckled as he dipped her low.

"What?"

"You. You're too good for your own life. When was the last time you came out and did this?" he pulled her back up and held her body close. She could feel the soft fabric of his suit against her cheek as she rested her heavy head on his broad shoulder.

"I have a son you know. We Mothers are frowned upon for leaving our children at home to come out and get drunk." Her voice was slick with alcohol and she felt her sentence slur together deliciously. He grinned and let himself enjoy the rare opportunity of smelling her hair before resting his cheek intimately on the top of her head.

"I meant, when was the last time you laughed, danced, went out with a man and had a good time." She closed her eyes in an attempt to truly think the question through.

"You know the answer to that. With you of course." She could feel him smiling above her and felt the need to rush on before she forgot what she wanted to say. "—But Vegeta makes me laugh too. It's not _all_ training and sex. I just like to tease him about that." His dancing slowed and she pulled her head back enough to look up at him, wondering if she had offended him.

"Does he make you feel like a goddess? Does he lavish you with attention and romance like you deserve? Because I could Bulma."

"Yamcha—"

"I can be the man you need. I can make you feel beautiful." He whispered as he used one of his hands to tuck her hair behind her ear. "I can make you feel protected." He flexed his biceps, nearing tearing the expensive fabric covering the muscles she knew to be hiding beneath the surface. "I can make your body shudder in complete satisfaction." His voice was deep, husky. The desire oozing from his lips as he pressed his body tightly against hers, showing her the evidence in his promise. Her heart began pounding wildly as the alcohol prodded her body to follow his lead. He used a finger to lift her chin, forcing her face to meet his own as his eyes burned into her. Her face blushed as the heat from his body wrapped itself around her. They were inches apart as she struggled to form a coherent thought. Her lips suddenly felt too dry and she ran her tongue across them as she fought off the drunken haze of arousal.

"Yamcha—"

His mouth was on her, cutting off any thoughts she may have had. He was gentle, tasting of the Riesling he had been drinking the entire evening as she felt the flicker of longing burst into an open flame deep in her belly. She couldn't fight the low moan that slipped from her mouth as his tongue used the opportunity to surge forth and rediscover her. He was familiar, his tongue knowing exactly how to twirl itself around her own causing a jolt of pleasure to surge between her legs and into her brain. Her eyes snapped open as much too suddenly her buzz was officially sobered. She pulled herself away from Yamcha and staggered back several feet.

All at once all those eyes she had been far too eager for earlier were very uncomfortable and unforgiving. _Shit_ she wanted to scream.

"This was a bad idea." She croaked, her stomach rolling threatening to spill itself over the entire floor if she didn't leave immediately. "This was a fucking _horrible_ idea." Yamcha stared at her in bewilderment as he stretched his arm out to grab her, missing as she deftly twisted out of the way and turned, heading for the door much quicker than was polite given the company in the room.

"Bulma wait!" she could hear him but the words refused to register as her mind focused on one priority. _Get the fuck out!_

Yamcha watched her leave knowing there was nothing he could do to stop her. He had crossed a line and he knew it…but right now, his lips throbbing with the taste of her, he found he didn't give a shit.

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><p>The shower still wasn't hot enough even as the steam filled the room and her skin turned from its normal pale cream to a deep flushed red. She rubbed the sugar scrub deep into her skin for a third time. Trying her best to distract her mind from replaying the events that had seemingly just taken place. As she scrubbed harder though she found herself replaying his words again and again. <em>I can make your body shudder…<em> It had been a promise that she believed he would keep. She felt the knot deep in her belly tighten and forced her face under the scalding water to force her attention else where.

She knew it was wrong to let him affect her this way, knew that it was wrong to let her fingers dip down and stroke the soft skin between her thighs. Wrong to pinch her nipples until they were hard and sensitive. She bit her lip to keep from moaning as she let his words build in repetition, fueling her fingers exploration of her body until she felt herself slick with a desperate need she knew couldn't be fulfilled.

She never heard the door open as he stepped into the room with her. So deep in her thoughts was she that when the glass door slid open and he joined her she simply continued touching herself. He watched her with a deep satisfaction. He had planned on coming to her to tell her of his plan to be a better human for her. Watching her pleasure herself though the plans immediately fell to the wayward. He reached out, his hand sliding around her waist. She gasped and spun around in fear.

"Vegeta!" she breathed in both surprise and guilt. He said nothing as his dark eyes raked her body, the lust in his eyes making her blood race. She reached out to touch him and he caught her hand in his wrist pinning it above her head. She took a moment to check him over, a habit she had picked up from his training days to ensure he wasn't hiding an injury. He smirked at her and she couldn't help but bite her lip in anticipation. She knew that smirk. It was a smirk of promise, a smirk of dark and dirty secrets. As to answer her promise his head dipped down and nipped at her lower lip. Gently biting it between his teeth as his strong arms pulled her to him with little effort.

The water suddenly felt ice cold as her blood burned at his touch. His hands were rough against her raw skin as he cupped her backside and lifted her into his arms. She slid her legs around his waist knowingly and felt his erection throbbing against her center eliciting a deep growl from Vegeta. All thoughts of Yamcha were immediately pushed away as he kissed her hard, the need and desperation making her knees weak as she silently thanked his arms around her. His tongue probed her lips, demanding access which she was all too happy to oblige. He assaulted her, his tongue dancing around her mouth, never staying in too place for long – just as his way was.

She grinned as she reached between them, gripping him tight in her hand, sliding the length of him up and down and was rewarded with a groan. His head nuzzled her neck as he trailed light nips and kisses trailing from her ear to her collar bone. She used her other hand to run her fingers through his hair, holding his face against her body as the muscles in her belly clenched painfully good.

"Bulma…" her name dripped seductively from his lips as he positioned himself to slide into her. She couldn't wait any longer, the anticipation that had been building the entire evening tore through her body as all rational thought left her body.

"Vegeta…please…" she begged as she pressed her forehead against his, kissing him hard.

She screamed in relief as he pushed himself deep inside of her. He pressed her against the tiled wall she raked her nails down his skin as he began thrusting into her, pulling almost completely out before slamming back earning squeaks of pleasure from her each time. She could feel the knot tighten itself wildly inside her as somehow despite the shower she could feel sweat bead up against her nape. Could feel his hot breath against her neck, her cheek, her lips. She was lost to the sensation of his body inside of her, filling her, stretching her and she closed her eyes to live in the feel of it.

"Fuck Bulma…" he groaned in her ear as she exploded around him. Her toes curled as those wonderful ripples of electricity started in her lower belly and tore through her arms and legs. She leaned her head back against the wall and sighed in relief. _I can make your body shudder…_

Several thrusts later Vegeta followed with his own explosion of release as he poured himself into her. They stood there for a moment, breathing deeply as they both came down from their sex high. Without releasing her he carried them out of the shower and into the bedroom where he laid her on the bed. He was still inside of her when he kissed her softly before rolling over back to his side, keeping his arm open inviting her to come lay on his chest. She immediately took him up on the rare offer of affection and closed her eyes. Happy just to have him back with her.

"Trunks can have his birthday party." He said quietly and she smiled into his chest. Not willing to ruin this moment with her questions and accusations about his week long abandonment. There would be time for that tomorrow she decided as she closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.

For the first night in too many months, locked in her lovers protective arms, she slept with no nightmares.


	4. Understanding

A/N: I really apologize for the length of time it took to post this. I really got slammed with writers block over the last bit and found that it was easier to step away for a bit rather than write a crappy end to this chapter. I am so estatic for all my reviews thus far though! You all truly are amazing fans and I appreciate the kind words, the guesses for the future, and the passionate opinions you have for the character interactions. I hope I can continue to astound and impress with the future chapters. Things are about to get more intense!

Update 7/28: Found this cute pic on Pinterest that looks exactly like the balcony scene I pictured! Not sure who the artist is, but here's the link if you'd like to see it. /pin/239605642645159721/

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Trunks glanced from his mother to his father skeptically as he chewed thoughtfully on his cereal. His mother chatted happily between bites of granola, her cheeks rosy and her eyes sparkling with a secret joke. He arched an eyebrow at her bubbly demeanor, not remembering the last time he had seen her this perky before eight in the morning. But it was his father that truly had him cautious. His father was…smiling? Not a smile like this mother wore, but for the first time in Trunks' short life he could honestly attribute the expression on his father's face as being a genuine smile. Not only was the older Saiyan smiling, but he was _paying attention_ to what his mother was rambling about. This was not normal, and from his own experience, the less normal things were – the more dangerous they were about to become.

"See, this is nice." Bulma chirped as she let herself lean forward on her elbows on the table. "When was the last time we all just sat and enjoyed a nice breakfast together?" she bit her lip as she smiled and Trunks caught the coy look in his mother's eyes making his stomach churn unpleasantly.

"You like this?" Vegeta asked, earning an enthusiastic head nod from his woman. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Then we'll have to do this more often." He said thoughtfully before shoveling more food into his mouth. Trunks almost choked as he shot his father a look of horror.

"But Dad! What about our morning training?"

"What about it?" Trunks squirmed in his seat nervously. His father may have been smiling, but experience had led the boy to memorize his father's main philosophy. _Never question me._

"Nothing just…are we still you know…doing it?" Vegeta locked eyes with the young boy, reading the fearful expression on his face. Was his son _that_ afraid to train with him again? Though - after their last session together he didn't blame the child. He turned his attention back to the woman and saw her smile never wavering. She obviously wasn't aware of the events that occurred last time. _The boy kept his mouth shut._

"I'll be training. Whether or not you join me is still in question." He grunted before turning his attention back to his food. The clang of metal forced both parents to snap their heads to their son. Vegeta's eyes widened in surprise at the look of fury he was receiving from the boy. Before he could open his mouth though, Trunks stood and stormed out of the room.

"What the hell was that about?" Bulma asked to no one in particular as she moved to pick up the abandoned breakfast. Vegeta shook his head and crossed his arms. "Well, obviously he's upset with you over something." She tried again, but still failed to illicit the appropriate response. Setting the dishes into the sink she turned and walked behind her man, wrapping her arms affectionately around his neck. She felt his shoulders tense with caution as she nipped at his ear. "Maybe you could go talk to him?" she purred.

"No."

"No?" she pulled back and spun herself she that she was sitting in his lap. "It wasn't exactly a yes or no question Vegeta."

"Then why did you phrase it as such _woman?" _she rolled her eyes.

"Fine. Let me try again. Go talk to your son." Vegeta grunted. "I'm serious Vegeta! He's missed you…he's not used to your disappearances like I am." Her tone softened as she recalled the early days of their relationship. "Please go talk to him?" Vegeta sighed as he lifted from his seat. He had already made up his mind to be a better man to his family, and this was part of that new role.

"If he cries he's all yours."

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><p>Trunks sat on the end of his bed casually tossing a baseball from hand to hand. It was a simple, human form of entertainment that had for months now baffled him. Catch. It served no purpose in training one for battle. It wasn't a tool in building, destroying, healing or killing. It was just a ball, and to use it was to just…toss it. He thought back to when Yamcha gave him the ball. He and Goten had spent hours flying back and forth, throwing it as hard and far as they could to one another. They had used it as a tool for precision and speed until Yamcha explained baseball to them. After that, it just seemed silly.<p>

He could feel his father's energy level as it approached the room and groaned. He had expected his mother and had prepared a short speech about his actions, why he wouldn't do it again _blah blah blah_…but with Vegeta, those excuses would fall on deaf ears. The man always demanded the truth and the best from his son. Half planned lies would only add insult to injury. He only had two choices. Suck it up and explain why he was upset – or open his window and fly off some place for the day. Except…his logic reminded him, he'd have to return at some point and deal with this then.

Vegeta twisted the door knob to his son's room and heard the young boy sigh in defeat. He didn't bother entering the room entirely, instead opting to lean against the door frame. His jaw tensed in agitation having his son's back to him and he had to fight the urge to walk up and smack the boy upside his head and teach him some respect.

"Brat—I don't have all day to stand about and wait for your petty reasons for your attitude. Your mother seems to think that you are upset about something and that it's my problem to fix it." The boy scoffed his disapproval making the vein in Vegetas head pulse in repressed anger. "Out with it." He said through clenched teeth.

"Dad you don't have to pretend to care. It's fine. I'll keep smiling in front of Mom and you can just tell her that we talked it out and everything is fine." The dejection in his voice was clear. Vegeta watched closely as Trunks shoulders slumped just a bit more, the boys energy level falling slightly as he closed himself off.

"Why are you upset boy?" he asked, his voice a bit softer than before. When Trunks simply shrugged and continued tossing the ball to himself Vegeta knew that this was more serious that he'd prepared for. The boy was rarely upset, and even less common was he silent. There was only one way that Vegeta knew to communicate besides with sex. "Fine. Be in the Gravity Room in two minutes."

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><p>Trunks flew at his father with a fury unseen before. He threw his fists at any available inch of body he saw through eyes soaked with unshed tears. He was sloppy, careless, but then again he wasn't really trying to do any real damage.<p>

"Don't you care about me?" he shouted as his fist made contact with his father's shoulder, bouncing back at him and bruising his knuckles which he immediately ignored in preparation for his next assault. "Don't you love me? Aren't you proud of me?" Trunks tried to keep the anger in his fists but the harder he tried, the more energy he had to put into not crying like a small child. Vegeta frowned at his sons words. He didn't know what the boy wanted to hear. What he should say. So he chose silence. He stood impassively, lost in his own thoughts occasionally registering the tiny blips of impact against his flesh.

"Why did you leave? Do you not want to train with me anymore?" Trunks gasped between sobs, letting his hands fall to his sides. "I can be better Dad. I promise." He choked out barely over a whisper. Vegeta's eyes widened in shock at the admission.

"is that what you're upset about?" Vegeta asked. "That I don't think you're good enough?" Trunks nodded once stiffly.

"The last time we trained you stopped because I was weak. You stopped, told me to leave, and then…then you were gone." Trunks kept his eyes to the ground. Knowing if he saw the look of shame in his father's eyes he would come undone.

"Trunks…"

"Dad I promise…I'm stronger now. I spent these past few weeks practicing with Goten and now I can—"

"Trunks listen to me." Vegeta cut him off. "I never believed you were weak." Trunks eyes shot up to his fathers to make sure he wasn't being mocked. When he saw the sincerity in his face, the boy relaxed the tension in his shoulders he hadn't been aware he was holding.

"Then why—"

"I lost control with you. You're not weak, but you're nowhere near my power level. I could have…" he looked away from his son. "I _would_ have killed you." Father and son stood and stared at each other for a moment, both unsure of how to quell the fears that had been laid out on the table. Vegeta wanted to curse and blast something to oblivion. He knew this was a critical moment for them, the boy needed reassurance. He needed confidence and validation. He needed all the things that Vegeta was unable to give him, because he himself had never received any in his own youth. As he looked down at his son though he knew he needed to say something to let Trunks know how he truly felt.

Unfortunately, words were never Vegeta's forte.

"Brace yourself boy. This time I'm not going to go easy on you."

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><p>"Gohan!" Vegeta heard Trunks say excitedly as he exited the training room, a towel draped around his shoulders replacing the shirt he had long since abandoned. He frowned at the sight of Kakarots oldest brat in his house, and even more so at the animation Trunks was displaying at his presence. Vegeta eyed the youth suspiciously; he was dressed ridiculously with a green tunic and red cape. <em>He looks absurd<em> he thought to himself.

"Hi Trunks, Vegeta! Do you like my new outfit?" Vegeta raised an eyebrow at the boy in disbelief, wondering if he was serious or being sarcastic. He could never tell with this boy.

"Who would honestly believe that looked good? You look like an idiot." He replied honestly.

"Good one Vegeta!" Gohan laughed before twisting his watch and having the costume disappear, leaving the young adult in his more normal attire. "Always the jokester." He ran his hand through his hair much the same way that Goku had. Vegeta's lip curled as he tried pushing past both boys. "I asked Bulma to make me a disguise for when I'm at school and she came up with this design!" Vegeta snorted.

"Of course the woman would put that together. She seems to have a limited knowledge of what actually looks _good_ on men." He shuddered as he recalled images of past outfits she had picked out for him. Pink shirts, yellow pants…

"Why do you need a disguise for school? Why can't you just go as you?" Trunks asked as he dabbed again at his forehead, his towel soaked through with sweat and droplets of blood. Vegeta tried again to brush past and make his escape and locked his jaw when he found both brats following close to his heel.

"Of course I go as me… but for the tournament I need something different so my classmates don't recognize me." Vegeta stopped dead in his tracks causing Gohan to bump into him ungracefully. The taller youth sputtered an apology, jumping to the side on guard, expecting to be hit for the accidental contact. Vegeta barely noticed though as he registered what had just been said.

"Tournament?" he cast a look over his shoulder to see Gohan again racing his hands through his hair as he smiled nervously.

"Er—Yeah. Martial Arts Tournament… my Mom is letting me enter to win the prize money." He said confidently. Vegeta chuckled before losing interest and continuing his path forward.

"Don't you mean _try_ to win the prize money? It's not as if you've actually kept up your training these past seven years…I'm positive all that studying and dating has made you soft. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised at all if some pathetic Earthling were to win this tournament." He sneered.

"Well…then why don't _you_ enter Vegeta?" Gohan shot back, stopping the Saiyan Prince in his tracks. Tension rippled itself down his back causing the two boys to take an involuntary step away.

"I made a promise to myself that the next time I fought; it would be against the one person on this planet who would be a real challenge to me." He took a deep breath, letting his shoulders slump as the anger of disappointment gripped him once again. "If _he_ isn't there, then it just isn't worth my time." Without waiting for a further response Vegeta sped up, leaving both boy standing with shocked expressions as he reached out feeling for the woman's energy. Feeling her out on the third floor balcony he immediately headed for that direction. He needed a distraction from thinking of his dead rival, and if the woman was good at anything—it was providing excellent distractions.

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><p>Bulma enjoyed the last bit of her cigarette before flicking it over the edge and into the wind. The breeze was cool but soft as it blew through her hair, pushing her skirt taunt as it lifted the hem higher, exposing more and more of her skin to the warmth of the sun. She closed her eyes, imagining that the breeze was replaced by long skilled fingers, brushing along her thighs. She spread her legs apart just a bit more, biting her lip as she recalled images from the night before. Vegeta – Running his strong calloused hands down her sides, gripping her hips tightly, pulling her towards him. Vegeta – nipping at the tender skin on her shoulder as he filled her completely.<p>

_I could make you shudder_.

Her eyes flew open, a blush exploding across her cheeks as she shook her head determined not to let it replay once more. She didn't know what came over her. She was in love with Vegeta. Their sex life was incredible; they shared a family…so why couldn't she stop thinking of Yamcha and the husky sound his voice made as he whispered in her ear. She jumped as her phone vibrated, startling her from her train of thought. Grabbing it from its place on the rail next to her she felt the blood drain from her face as his name flashed across the screen.

_Can we to talk about last night?-Y_

Gingerly her thumbs brushed over the screen, trying to erase the words along with the confusion that suddenly filled her. Yamcha had been out of her life for years, both of them agreeing that while the romance had died, their friendship was still worth preserving but Vegeta had looked down at the idea of the ex's even being that friendly with each other. As the weeks carried into months it just seemed pointless to fight with Vegeta over something that she wasn't completely invested in anyways.

Until recently.

She rolled her eyes and snapped the phone closed harshly. There was nothing to talk about as far as she was concerned. She had gone to a social event with him as a favor; she had enjoyed herself and then came home to her family. End of story. The only reason she had even let herself get wrapped up in the moment with him was because of all the wine she had drank. She smiled and nodded to herself. That was it, the wine. She never would have let him kiss her or tempt her with promises of pleasure if her mind had been focused and sharp.

"I've got to stop drinking on an empty stomach…" she mumbled aloud.

"Hn. You also need to learn how to cook to _fill_ an empty stomach." Bulma spun around, a small gasp escaping her lips as she felt Vegeta's breath against the nape of her neck.

"Don't sneak up on me you jerk! You know I hate when you do that." Her eyebrows furrowed with mock anger as she clutched her hand to her chest to still her speeding heart. "One of these days you're going to kill me!" he laughed and moved around her to lean against the balcony, his towel draped around his shoulders as his thumbs dug into the edge of his shorts.

"I promised you I would."

"Yeah you promised me a lot of things that you haven't come through on either." She teased, giving him a small smirk as the anger ebbed away. "How did things go with Trunks." She dug in the pocket of her skirt, her fingers fiddling on find a loose cigarette.

"The boy is fine. However, I cannot say the same for Kakarots eldest brat." He snorted in disgust before turning his attention away from Bulma and out into the distance. "What the hell did you dress him in woman? He looks idiotic." Bulma pulled the last cigarette out and lit it, taking a deep drag as she planted her free hand on her hip.

"Well excuse me! I think he looks great. Very classy and stylish." Vegeta rolled his eyes and ran a hand through his hair.

"Then you obviously have no fucking sense of style." She blew a mouthful of smoke in his direction before turning her back to him.

"Whatever, and your style is so great? You wear a blue uni-tard most of the time except with you're in your spandex training gear. Not exactly red carpet material." She heard his growl and smiled to herself.

"You'd do well to tame your mouth _woman_ lest I find a better use for it." He threatened.

"Oh?" she raised an eyebrow at him, flicking the ash away from her with a flick of her wrist as she took a step towards him. "Why don't you show me what you got, _bad man._" He chuckled, gazing at his woman through dark heady eyes. He pushed himself from the rail, letting his abs do all the work. A smug grin spread across his face as he noticed her eyes open wider, her mouth puckering to a perfect 'o' shape as she raked her eyes over his perfect physique. His eyes focused on her mouth, her plump lips parted just enough for him to imagine her on her knees…her hands tearing at the edge of his shorts tugging, pulling down until—

"MOM!" Trunks voice drifted up through the hallway hitting both his parents at the same time. "GOHAN IS LEAVING!" Vegeta ground his teeth, stringing curses in multiple languages together in a colorful description of what he thought of both boys at this moment.

"I'll be right down!" she yelled back before throwing the angry Saiyan a flirtatious grin, blowing him a kiss as she backed up and walked through the doorway. "Better luck next time sir."

Bulma bit her lip to keep from laughing as she heard him sigh before grunting another set of angry words she would never understand. She walked quickly down the stairs, smoothing her skirt back into its proper place as she headed towards the sound of the two boys laughing in the main room.

"You have everything?" she asked as she rounded the corner to see Gohan starring up at the ceiling, a deep look of concentration on his face. She quickly looked to her son, his eyes wide with excitement and awe as he stared at the other demi-Saiyan.

"What's going on?" Vegeta asked harshly, startling Bulma once more as he appeared next to her. She swatted at him, doing more damage to herself than him as she slapped at his chest.

"It's King Kai!" Trunks whispered, his eyes never leaving Gohan. "Something about the martial arts tournament that Gohan is in!" the boy bounced in place, ignoring the glare from his father.

"It's about my dad!" Gohan said, his smile threatening to rip through his cheeks. "He's coming back to fight!"

The room erupted into cheers and laughter as the words sunk in to each person. Seperately bringing a different promise to each one. In only a few short weeks, Goku would be back on Earth. A woman would regain a lost friend. A child would be reunited with his father. And a Saiyan Prince would finally have the revenge his blood demanded.

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><p>AN: I know that's not exactly how it happened in the shows, but for the sake of the story let's just roll with it shall we? :)


	5. Confusion

A/N: Hi Guys, I'm back from a very long MIA. Lots has happened in the past few months... got a new promotion at work which has forced longer hours, and more stress...and more importantly i'm recently engaged! So it's been a lot of wedding planning for the past few months, however I haven't forgotten my story and I apologize for the hiatus. Let's continue shall we?

Thank you everyone for all your reviews! I read, appreciate and love everyone of them!

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><p>The blood pooled in his mouth, overflowing until it seeped from the corners of his lips and down his neck. His entire body burned from exhaustion. His muscles no longer willing to cooperate with his wishes as they locked, rooting him in place. The corner of his lip turned up into the makings of a smirk as the irony of the situation hit hard. He had spent his life traveling galaxies, murdering countless lives for the sake of entertainment. To prove himself as being the one true evil force in the world. He had looked children in the eye, watching the horror as realization that they would never see another day registered on their faces before slowly…excruciatingly…he would end their life. Other members of Freiza's army had looked down on him for his treatment of the children, but he knew the truth. Frieza may have been malicious, but he had been a genius at war strategy. Weakness for the children now meant you were willing to die by the men they became later. Frieza himself had broken his own rule by letting Vegeta live and had paid the ultimate price.<p>

He had spent his life hating children, what they become, how they affect people, what they change in a man's life. Yet now here he stood, starring death in the face, knowing there was no other outcome from this liaison and he was doing it all to save one. To save his son.

He allowed himself the small gift of seeing Trunks one last time as the Namekian flew away from the scene, the boy tossed over his shoulders unconscious by his own bloodied hand.

_He looks so much like his mother…_

He knew what he was doing was the right choice. His son needed to live, and this was the only thing he would ever truly be able to give him. A chance for a future.

3 Weeks Earlier

"Dad, Mom wants to know when you plan on coming out for dinner." Trunks face suddenly flashed across an entire wall giving Vegeta the unwelcome chance to see his son gorge himself on what looked like an entire ham. He sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth as he focused on building the energy in his core, letting the power consume him until his golden hair began to ripple, the faint traces of electric power cascading around his nerve endings. He was so close, he could feel the ascension to a full Super Saiyan 2 at the tips of his fingers…he just needed….to…

"Dad?" Trunks stopped chewing as he watched his father fall to his knees, letting out a gut wrenching scream of pain before collapsing to the ground. "Oh shit." The boy muttered, immediately clasping his hand over his mouth as he looked around nervously for his mother. "MOM! He did it again!" he shouted down the corridor before switching the communication with the G.R. off. Jumping down from the chair he leisurely strolled towards the door that encased his unconscious father, taking another bite of the ham as he went.

This routine had become fairy frequent over the past nine days, ever since Gohan had told them all that Goku would be returning to fight in the tournament. Vegeta had immediately immersed himself into a heavy training regime from dawn til dusk, barely leaving the chambers to eat and sleep. It wasn't until the past three days though that he had found himself close to reaching the SSJ2 level. Close – but never able to finally push himself over the threshold. The first time he had passed out from the power surge it had taken Bulma five hours before finding him. She'd screamed for Trunks to come and help her carry him off to bed for a few hours while she forced food into his stomach, gave him a sponge bath, changed his clothes and gave him a kiss on the cheek knowing that when he finally woke up he wouldn't think to do these things himself.

"Again?" he heard his mother ask exasperatedly. "How long has he been out for?" she jogged the rest of the way, seeing her son leaning up against the door chewing on the rest of his dinner as she punched in the override codes needed to enter. Trunks swallowed heavily.

"Only a couple minutes now, I was telling him about dinner when it happened." Bulma shook her head as the power locks released and the door swung open. The thick smell of sweat and frustration pouring out in waves.

"Gross…after we put him to bed I need to get a cleaning bot in here. What was he doing when he went down?" Trunks shrugged.

"He was super and then just…went out."

"Figures. Leave it to your father to completely ignore basic human limits until he literally knocks himself out cold." She groaned from the exertion of trying to turn him over onto his back. Muscle she was finding, truly was much heavier than fat.

"He's not human though Mom." Trunks stated bluntly. "Neither am I."

"Sweetheart…" she wiped her brow with the back of her hand, letting Vegeta fall with a thud back onto the floor, though this time with his face upwards. "Believe me. Not a day goes by that I _can_ forget that my two special guys are from a different planet…but just because your genetics aren't totally human, Earth is still your home. That's what makes you human." Trunks let the information soak in, his brows furrowing in to the center in concentration.

"Dad would be mad if he heard you talking like that." He mumbled before bending to grab his fathers' limp arm, tossing it across his shoulders and hoisting him to a somewhat vertical position.

"Yeah well….your dad gets mad if he hears me talking in general so what's the difference?" she teased and was rewarded with a smile from her son. "Can you get him to bed by yourself or do you want some help?" she took a few steps towards the boys before Trunks scoffed and started walking.

"Please…don't insult me." Bulma had to laugh to herself as she watched her son carry his father out of the room and wondered for the millionth time how different things may have been for her and Trunks had Vegeta not come back from the Androids. She knew the importance of his training, she understood that it had been his psychotic regimens, his insistent need for perfection and stubborn pride that had kept him alive and brought him back to his family. While for months she had hated him for locking himself away and ignoring her in the beginning months of their complicated relationship – in the end she was grateful. Because of that she had never attempted to stop or complain about how much time he spent in the gravity room. The arrival of Cell and the death of Goku confirmed one thing in her mind. You can never be _too_ prepared.

As she stopped to look around the chamber that had stolen her man away her nose crinkled at the stench that hit her like a wall. She surveyed the damage while she followed the trail down the to the small side room where the casual living space was set up. It was only large enough for a single cot, a small portable fridge, microwave and table but somehow the man had made it feel homey. A small display of photos taped crudely to the mini fridge drew her in. She smiled as she looked at the small picture of Trunks as a baby sat proud and center, thick creases through its center proof that it had been folded and unfolded multiple times in its life. To its right, a picture of her looking seductive in a goof picture she had taken for him years ago clad only in a small black bikini. A third photo was a surprise, forcing her stomach to fall to the pit. A newspaper clipping showcasing herself and Yamcha embraced on the dance floor – the caption reading; _Blast from the past?_

She pulled at the picture, tearing it slightly and found that it was folded on upon itself, the accompanying article still attached. Her eyes widened in horror as she quickly scanned what was written.

_It was quite the turnout for the Titans recruitment as sports heroes from across the country joined together  
>in what was easily the party to define parties. But it wasn't which team new comer and future superstar Travis<br>Avey would sign with that was the talk to the evening. No, it was the heiress Bulma Breifs return to the scene  
>with none other than ex beau and current Titans teammate Yamcha Choy.<br>Ms. Breifs has been MIA from the social scene since the birth of her son Trunks Breifs seven years ago. The couple  
>has been rumored to have been seen cozier than normal with each other as of late, a source confirms to have seen<br>the two strolling down main street together, carrying bags and picking out suits.  
>Could this ex-Hollywood couple be back on the scene? Nothing has been confirmed by Capsule Corp yet but as far<br>as this reporter can tell – this picture speaks a thousand words._

Bulma looked at the picture once more and groaned at the intimate posture their bodies had taken with one another. She was wrapped around Yamcha, his hands firmly on her waist holding her close as their faces were but inches apart. Anger flared in her belly as she crumped the paper in her fist. How did Vegeta get this? He had never sought out tabloid gossip before…and why had he not said anything to her?

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><p>Vegeta tossed and turned inside his head, fighting for the control he needed to regain consciousness. He knew he had pushed himself too far once again. But it had been by pushing himself past his limits, forcing his body to go beyond its abilities that he had obtained Super Saiyan and it would be by these same measures that he obtained the next level. He wouldn't stop at Super Saiyan two though. No. If Kakarotts brat was able to jump from Super Saiyan to Super Saiyan two in less than a week – he could ascend to Super Saiyan three in days or die trying.<p>

"Dad?" a small voice whispered in his head, and while he couldn't open his eyes, he knew that Trunks sat beside him. "I don't know if you're awake enough to know that I'm here but I have a good feeling that even if you were you'd pretend to be asleep." They both snickered to themselves, though only one was audible.

"see, I've been doing a lot of thinking and…I know I disappoint you. I know I'm not the full blooded Saiyan you want me to be. I know I'll never look like you more than Mom, and I know the only reason you stuck around was for me. I know I'm not strong enough and that you wish I…well…that I was more like Gohan. But im trying Dad. Me and Goten…well…I can prove it to you. If you give me a chance I can be the son you've always wanted. I promise… I love you dad."

Vegeta listened to the footsteps pad away and for the second time in his life…he wished he was dead.

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><p>"…what do you mean you knew about the article?! Why didn't you say anything to me?" Bulma screeched into the phone, her perfectly manicured nails digging painfully into her palms, the paint chipping off in small fragments from the pressure she put on them.<p>

"I figured you would have seen it? Come on Bulma, there used to be a time when people couldn't whisper your name without you knowing about it thirty seconds before. You mean to tell me that you no longer follow the tabloids at all?" Yamcha sounded skeptical and she could hear the faint clinking of dishes in the background. Either he was just starting to eat – or had just finished.

"I stopped reading that trash once they began speculating on who was Trunks' father and wouldn't leave him alone for pictures." She waved off an imaginary paparazzi member as if to make her point.

"yeah, how _is_ Vegeta? Training hard for this new tournament in a week?" his voice was flat, insincere and Bulma glared through the phone.

"He's stronger than ever Yamcha, thank you for asking. In fact he's…" she glanced down the corridor to where she knew he would be laying, still unconscious. "Meditating. You know, focusing on controlling his energy." She was answered with a snort. "At least he's in the tournament. Tell me, when was the last time you entered into a competition?"

"Competitions are all well and good…when you have something to prove. Does he have something to prove Bulma? He's definitely not doing it for the prize money…so tell me, what's the real reason he's spending so much time locked up away from you and Trunks?" Bulma breath caught in her throat, unsure of how to answer.

"You know as well as I do that Goku is coming back for the tournament. He's going to need competition and Vegeta is more than a match for him."

"Sure. Meanwhile you and Trunks are once again running solo." Bulma cursed into the phone.

"Don't try to turn the topic from the reason I called. He had the article Yamcha." The clinking stopped and she grinned smugly at the fear she envisioned on his face at the other end of the phone. "That's right. He saw the way you were holding me and if there's anything you can guarantee about Vegeta it's that he protects what's his."

"So, are you calling me to warn me because you care about my wellbeing?"

"What? No!" she gasped.

"Sure thing Bulma. Look, I'm sure if Mr. Territorial was going to do something about the article he would have by now. It's not as if it just came out this morning. And im assuming that since you're just calling me about it now means he didn't mention anything to you and you found it on your own right?" Bulma boiled but stayed silent. "…and if he didn't mention it to you…and he hasn't come for me… does he even care?"

Bulma screamed and threw her phone into the wall as hard as she could, the small device shattering into multiple parts. He wasn't right. He couldn't be…he was just saying things to get inside her head. Of course Vegeta cared! He was just…busy. Knocking himself out. She wandered down the hall, letting her legs carry her.

He did care…right? He said he did, he had been making efforts to be more attentive and supportive of her and Trunks. Yet Yamcha also made some points. What was Vegeta trying to prove? It had been seven years since Goku's death, seven years he hadn't pushed himself to these extreme limits but at the first mention of his rivals return he snapped. Was this how life would always be? Would he never be satisfied with his life with Bulma and their son if he had no greater opponent to defeat? Would he be happier off traveling the galaxy seeking out stronger villains to slay? It had been his original plan, she reminded herself. He had never meant to stay on Earth after Namek. Only long enough to find Goku and beat him. If she hadn't gotten pregnant… was she holding him back?

She stopped dead in her tracks, the realization hitting her like a brick. Was that the choice she was forcing him to make? Stay on Earth and be miserable for her and their child… or travel the galaxy and be happy?

"Fuck."

* * *

><p>Vegeta tried to focus on his warm ups while keeping an eye on Trunks as the boy struggled around the room. They hadn't talked after Trunks visit to the sick chamber two days ago, but instead he had asked the boy bright and early to come train on the condition that he not get in the way, and that he be able to deal with 150 times gravity. More than the boy had been able to do in the past.<p>

For Vegeta, the time was wasteful. The gravity didn't pose a challenge in the least, and with the brat so close he refused to go to his normal levels of training in case things went poorly again. Instead he practiced focusing on hiding his power level to naught while in the Super Saiyan form.

He could hear Trunks besides him, grunting and gasping as he tried walking around the room. Each step painful and exhausting.

"Perhaps you should rest son. 150 times gravity is a man's training…you're clearly still a child."

"Goten called me last night." He mumbled through his teeth. "He says he's going to be in the tournament. Now _I_ want to." Vegeta grinned.

"So, what are you going to do about it?" he watched as Trunks stopped walking, his body hunched from the pressure of the room though he refused to collapse. The boy panted for air and Vegeta decided the child had had enough for now. Bulma would surely give him an earful if Trunks came back with a collapsed lung.

"Guess I'll go… Super." Trunks spoke confidently, as if the choice was obvious. Vegeta stopped moving and looked over his shoulder is confusion. Super? Did the child just say…Super? Without effort, without another thought Trunks turned a brilliant gold, his hair standing on point. His normally blue eyes turned green and Vegetas eyes widened at the dramatic increase in the boys power level. He stood in stunned silence and shock as Trunks began jumping up and down. Vegeta watched as the boy who moments ago could barely take five steps ran around in circles as if he were weightless, laughing the entire time.

"Did… I miss something?" he watched as Trunks flipped forwards and backwards around the room. "When was it that the transformation into the legendary warrior of the Saiyan race was reduced to a childs play thing?!" After a moment he snapped out of the shock, his eyebrows knitting back together as more questions crossed his mind. "Come here son. Can the youngest child of Kakarott also become a Super Saiyan?"

"Yes." Trunks nodded.

"Yes, naturally it's a Super Saiyan bargain sale." He muttered making Trunks grin. An idea came to Vegetas mind. "Try to hit me."

"Uh, why would I do that Dad? You know I'm not strong enough." Vegeta clenched his jaw.

"You want to play like that? Fine, let's deal. If you can land a punch on my face I'll take you to the park for an hour." The words spilled from his mouth without much thought. All he focused on was his desire to know just how strong his boy had become.

"Wow! You mean it? Ok!" and without giving his father a chance to back out of their deal he leapt back into a fighting stance.

"Now let's just see what you can do." His excitement grew tenfold at the serious look in his sons eyes. He prepared himself for the attacks similar to the last time they sparred knowing his sons preferred moves and attacks. A gleam shone across Trunks eyes that Vegeta had never seen before. The child was confident…excited.

"Here comes." He warned.

The first punch grazed his cheek before he could even register the boy had moved. Vegeta swore to himself as it seemed like a hundred fists were flying at him all at once, forcing him to actually put effort into dodging his head to miss the blows. The boy was fast, Vegeta proudly thought to himself. Much faster than before, and much faster than he gave him credit. Vegeta grinned at the realization that his child was the youngest Super Saiyan alive – the action causing him to slow down barely a hair. It was enough time though, as he felt Trunks small fist make contact with his cheek.

And then Trunks was on his back across the room. Vegeta swore to himself, images of the last time flooded his head. _Shit! Not again… _but when Trunks sat up he was relieved to see it was just a sore nose, no blood and nothing broken.

"You…you didn't say you'd hit back Dad…" Trunks clutched his face, trying to stop his nose from throbbing.

"Well…I didn't say I wouldn't hit you now did I Trunks…" he defended.

"No, but…" he tried to stifle an uncontrolled sniffle.

"Dry your tears. We're going to the park now." Trunks smiled immediately. "But before we go you must tell me who's stronger… you or Kakarotts boy." The question gnawed at him. Would his adversary defeat him in this as well? Would Vegeta and his family _always_ be second best to the third class clowns?

"I'm a little bit stronger than him because Goten's a year younger than I am." Trunks said proudly, knowing this was what his father would want to hear. "And he hasn't learned to fly yet." He added smugly.

_Only a bit eh? Well… we'll have to do something about that._

"How long have you been able to turn?" he asked.

"A few weeks…this was what I'd been trying to show you for a while now." Trunks picked himself up off the ground and touched his nose gingerly double checking for breaks. Vegeta said nothing, letting the news process in his head.

There was still time before the tournament… days, yes. But days that he would now spend pushing Trunks to be better, stronger. His son would never be second to Kakarotts child. His family would never again be second to anyone.

"Come. Let's get this park trip over with."

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><p>AN: The next chapter is going to be dark. Please bare with me folks!


	6. Resentment

A/N: Alright! This has been put off for FAR too long... let's get things re-vamped!

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><p>Yamcha checked this phone for the third time in the past five minutes hoping to see Bulma's number flash on the screen. It had been almost a week since they last spoke and she abruptly cut him off. He had text her since then, hoping for any sort of communication but had thus far been completely ignored. He ran his hand through his hair sighed as he grabbed for the remote control. He wasn't sure what his problem was lately. He and Bulma had agreed long ago that they were better as just friends.<p>

Yes, they had history. Yes, he would always have feelings for her…but she made her choice when she decided to stay with Vegeta even after everything he put her through – so why was he suddenly feeling this pull to her again? He tried to chalk it up to a typical manly competitiveness with Vegeta for the woman that was stolen from him…but it was more than that. He missed her, even when she was yelling at him.

He missed the crinkle between her eyes when she scowled. He missed the perfume she would spray just behind her ears right before bed. He missed the laugh she would make when he tickled her waist and the way she would kiss the tip of his nose before whispering she loved him. She was dangerous, beautiful, smart and silly. She was also living with one of the only men on the planet that he actually feared would kill him if he stepped too close.

Except he hadn't. Even after clearly seeing the article from the party where they danced. Vegeta hadn't done anything. Yamcha had waited that first day the article came out. Pacing his apartment nervous about when Vegeta would show up to beat him to a pulp. After three days of no excitement he had given up waiting and relaxed back into his normal routine.

His phone buzzed on the seat next to him and he snatched it faster than any normal human.

"Hello?" he said almost too eagerly.

"Yamcha?" his heart sank.

"Oh…hi Yvonne…how are you?" Yvonne was a girl he casually saw on the weekends when nothing else better came along. He normally ignored her phone call to avoid an awkward excuse of why he couldn't see her.

"Better now that I finally got ahold of you silly! You're always so unavailable!" he closed his eyes and sank deeper down into the couch.

"Yeah well, you know how it is. Busy with work… what's up."

"I was wondering if you were going to the tournament this weekend? I know how much you love your martial arts! All the greatest warriors are planning on being there and I thought…maybe we could go together? As a … well, it wouldn't have to be –"

"The tournament is _this_ weekend?" Yamcha sat up and glanced at the far wall where at his calendar. Sure enough the date he'd circled showed to be two days away. His face lit up in a small smile. "Yeah…you know what Yvonne that sounds like a great idea. I was planning on going anyways so it would be nice to have some company." He pulled the phone away from his ear as the girl on the other end squealed and began rambling about plans for a hotel room.

He grinned to himself not bothering to pay attention to what was being said to him. Bulma would be there no doubt, and it would be a perfect chance to talk to her and show her how he had changed in the past few years. He was the better man for her and Trunks and he would prove it one way or another.

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><p>Bulma stood in front of the gravity room with her hands on her hips as she glared daggers into the metal. Both Trunks and Vegeta had locked themselves in the afternoon before and refused to come out. She had been forced to call Trunk's school and make an excuse about doctors' appointments but now it looked as if they planned on staying in there another night which was completely unacceptable!<p>

She banged her fist on the solid door again even though she knew they couldn't hear her. If Vegeta wanted to waste his life inside the metal chamber then that was his decision but she would not let her son completely be sucked into the warrior life style! She debated whether or not to use the manual over ride code and force her way in…but without knowing what they were doing in there exactly she risked the chance of hurting them by messing the sudden pressure change.

She eyed the observation window with disgust and shook her head. Since the last time he knocked himself out Vegeta had himself covered the window with tar to prevent anyone from looking in on his training.

Bulma checked her watch again and rolled her eyes. She would give them two more minutes to come out on their own or else she was going in. Regardless of what training they were in the middle of.

The door hissed a release of air as if reading Bulma's mind and a moment later two very sweaty Saiyans walked out into the hall, a towel draped over both of their shoulders, completely ignoring the blue haired woman standing in front of them.

"Thanks for showing me that move Dad. I can't wait to surprise Goten with it!" Trunks nearly bounced on his toes with excitement while Vegeta grunted in acknowledgement.

"uh…Excuse me!" Bulma nearly screeched while waving her hands in their faces. "Do you not see me here waiting for you?" Trunks flicked his eyes from his mother to his father. "I've been waiting out here for ages! Do you care to explain WHY Trunks missed school today?"

"Mom – it was my fault – I was asking Dad to –"

"Shush. I'm not talking to you." She threw a look down at her son making him shrink back a bit behind his father. Vegeta merely kept his gaze locked on the woman as he crossed his arms over his chest.

"The boy needs to train. The tournament is almost here. He has school for another ten years."

"Vegeta that is NOT how it works here! He can't just miss school whenever you decide it's alright."

"That's exactly how it works. I'm his father, if I decide he's not going to school then he's not going to school." Vegeta narrowed his eyes, challenging her to defy him. Bulma studied him before crossing her own arms across her chest, refusing to break eye contact.

"Trunks… go take a shower then wait for me in the living room." The boy hesitated looking from his mother to his father. "NOW." With a startled jump he ran down the hallway using a touch of his Saiyan speed. "Vegeta, what the hell is your problem lately." She asked once she was sure Trunks was away from them. Her eyes softened with concern while her voice held its edge.

"Nothing." He half grumbled. "I don't appreciate you questioning my authority over the boy. I'm his father and as such I have a right to decide if he needs school or training. If we were on Planet Vegeta he would spend most of his time training in combat and war strategies, not practicing frilly writing and reading books about children orphaned in boxcars."

"But we're not _ON_ your planet. We're on Earth…and HERE children need to think for their own and be cultured. We don't need warriors, we need scientists, politicians, doctors… Trunks will eventually take over the Capsule Corp business and he needs to be prepared for that!"

"Don't need warriors?!" Vegetas face paled while his mouth popped open in shock. "You certainly needed warriors when Cell attacked the planet! You were _begging_ me to help stay and fight the androids when they were a threat… you needed warriors when _I_ attacked Earth. Maybe if you're pathetic planet spent more time building warriors you wouldn't be attacked every other day and leave your lives dependent on the clown Kakarott! This planet is a joke." He sneered. Bulma gasped and put a hand to her chest as she took a step backwards away from him.

"This planet is your home Vegeta…if you hate it so much…why did you stay?"

Vegeta's mouth snapped shut as he glared at the woman in front of him. Her eyes gave away her worry as she waited for him to confirm the thing she had dreaded most. He was not a stupid man. He knew his answer right now would not be forgotten, and he knew that his answer could very well ruin his relationship with Bulma. So he did the only thing he could. He walked away. Pushing past her, Bulma watched as Vegeta walked down the hallway slowly with his head held high, though his posture was stiff. She bit her bottom lip to stop from calling out to him. His silence told her what she needed to know. He resented her.

* * *

><p>Vegeta sat on the edge of his bed with his face in his hands. He couldn't win. No matter what he did, it was never enough for her. If he avoided them and gave them distance from him she complained that he regretting his decision to stay on Earth. If he spent time – he was accused of monopolizing the boy.<p>

He wanted to lose control, blow a hole in the wall, crush an enemy…be his true self. But the woman had changed him. He actually considered her feelings and opinions when it came to how he acted and responded. Why could she not see that? Why could she not see and accept that everything he did, everything he sacrificed… it was all for her.

He had let it go when he received the article in the mail, addressed to him and sent by someone too cowardly to put their name on the envelope. He had glanced over the article and spent no time worrying about the picture of his woman in the arms of another man. He trusted her when she said she loved him. He trusted her when she said she wanted to be with him and that there were no others. Pictures and articles aside, he trusted her feelings for him.

However it was now painfully clear she didn't trust him at all.

Still sitting on the bed he carefully powered himself until he easily hit Super Saiyan. He remembered clearly the moment the transformation had happened… the split second when he had decided that his own life was not worth the death of son and Bulma. His admittance that he needed them…cared about them… it pushed him past himself and into the form of a true warrior.

But as he tried to push further…higher…he couldn't. He could feel the power inside of him swell and grow until it hit a wall in the shape of his family. His responsibility to them.

With a scoff he powered down and ground his teeth until they hurt. He wished more than anything that he could have both. Power and his family… but even Kakarott had sacrificed one for the other.

_Kakarott_

He had chosen power over his family without hesitation. Willingly staying dead so that he could train, grow, advance. Was that the reason he could ascend so easily? The idea twirled around Vegeta's brain for the rest of the night. If he had a choice…would he choose the same?

* * *

><p>Bulma walked onto the balcony and checked to make sure the door was locked behind her. Wiping a stray tear from her eyes with the back of her hand she dug into her pocked and pulled out her new cell phone. Scrolling through she found the name of the person she most dreaded talking to these days… but found herself most needing to reach out to.<p>

Clicking on the name she typed a very brief text and sent it before she could reconsider what she was doing. Pocketing her phone she unlocked the door and walked back inside to find Trunks waiting in the living room for her.

* * *

><p>1 new message – the phone beeped.<p>

_You were right.  
>-Bulma<em>

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><p>AN: Thank you all for being patient with me during this long hiatus! Hoping to get the juices flowing again and back into the swing of things! As always, let me know what you think :)


	7. Fury

A/N: Hi Friends - Thank you all for sticking with me through my overly long hiatus! It really makes me happy to see so many people following the story! Reviews are ALWAYS very much appreciated! It lets me know you guys like the story and where it's going...so please don't forget to leave a review!

I have to admit - while it wasn't my original intention for Bulma to be a "bad guy" or Yamcha for that matter... I do like that everyone seems so on board with hating them right now lol I promise though, this is a love story between Bulma and Vegeta in the end.

Thank you!

XOXO

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><p>"I have to admit, I was surprised when I got your text. I haven't heard from you in a while." Chi-Chi smiled warmly at the woman sitting at her kitchen table while she finished pouring the two cups of green tea into her finest china. Bulma accepted it gratefully while letting her eyes roam the small kitchen. She had to admit that she was impressed with Chi-Chi's ability to take practically nothing and make it a cozy home. It couldn't have been easy living with Goku, but it must be even harder with him gone. She was lucky to have Gohan and Goten around to help out.<p>

Pots and pans hung from a metal rack above the small stove, while dozens of tiny pots all containing different herbs and spices decorated the window ledges. Occassionally a small tremor rifted through the floor boards as the boys wrestled outside.

"I know, things have been hectic as you can imagine… how are you doing? Are you excited to see Goku again?" Chi-Chi sat on the old wooden chair letting out a heavy sigh as the chair matched with its own weary creak.

"Yes…and No…Don't get me wrong, I love Goku. Always have, always will…but…what kind of father just chooses to stay dead and leave his family you know?" She kept her eyes focused on her cup, gently blowing on it. Bulma held the mug between both hands enjoying the heat as she nodded empathetically. "I'm excited for Goten to meet his father, but of course it takes a tournament for Goku to agree to come back to earth. To see his wife? Never in a million years. To see his kids? Nope. To have one day to fight? Oh, THAT…that's a valid reason." She laughed sarcastically and took a sip.

"To be fair, he didn't know about Goten before he did what he did."

"But he knew about Gohan. That should have been enough." She bit out. "Sorry," she tried again a bit softer. "It's just… as you can imagine… a sensitive topic. I'm not even sure how to explain to Goten that he gets to meet his dad for one day and then that's it. I'm not convinced it's even a good thing to do to be honest, but since the boys are fighting in the tournament it's not like they won't see each other." She leaned back in her chair and quickly wiped away the sad look from her face as she forced a smile. "But, you didn't come all this way to talk about my husband. What's on your mind."

Bulma fidgeted in her seat unsure of how to bring up the topic she most wanted to discuss.

"Chi-Chi… when Goku was around…did you ever feel like…like he's rather be fighting than be with you?" Chi-Chi gave her a blank look and raised an eyebrow.

"Is that a joke? We just confirmed that my dear husband is returning to earth for one day ONLY to fight in a stupid tournament…Yes. Yes, I can confidently tell you that Goku would choose fighting over his family without and hesitation or thought. He's a Saiyan…apparently it's all they're programmed to do." Bulma bit her lip and took a small sip. The tea was too hot and much too bitter but thankfully kept her face neutral.

"I'm sorry, I just…even when Vegeta isn't off training and it's just the two of us I get the sense that he's not happy here, with me. He's always looking for a reason to go off a train, some invisible villain is always on the outskirts…it's never over." Chi-Chi shook her head and tried not to roll her eyes.

"Bulma, I've told you once and I'll tell you a million more times. Vegeta is a monster. He's cold, egotistical, selfish…of course he doesn't really care for you. He can't. I swear the man doesn't know how to love anything besides the fight." Bulma glared slightly, her nails clicking against the cup.

"That's not fair. Vegeta has proved himself trustworthy and capable of love. He loves Trunks and his family –"

"Just not more than fighting." The women held each other's gaze hardly. Both unwilling to back down. "Look, Goku may have seen the good in everyone which is why he let Vegeta live…but I don't buy this mister nice guy act he's trying to hide behind. Once a monster – always a monster. You can even take that bet to the bank that he'll snap one of these days and revert. People like that don't change Bulma." Bulma opened her mouth to argue back but Chi-Chi went on as if she didn't notice. "Once a killer – always a killer." Chi-Chi chuckled to herself as she took another sip of the tea and grinned up at the open mouth expression Bulma wore. "Besides… I thought you liked your men evil?"

Bulma nearly dropped the mug on the table as the color drained from her face. Chi-Chi raised an eyebrow as a few beads of sweat suddenly appeared on Bulma's brow.

"What's wrong? Are you ill?" Bulma shook her head numbly as she tried to regain her composure. Chi-Chi continued to ramble on about a new girl Gohan was seeing clearly thinking it was time to change the topic. Bulma could barely hear her though as the blood pounded in her ears and the cold voice whispered in hear ear from her nightmares.

_I thought you liked your men evil_

"…and I hear Yamcha is dating someone new as well."

"Huh?" Bulma brushed her hair out of her eyes, coming back to the conversation at the name of her ex. "Is he? He didn't mention anything to me the last time I spoke to him…" Though, that had been several weeks ago, she admitted to herself.

"I'm not sure how serious it is, but apparently he's bringing her to the tournament tomorrow. If she's anything like the last few there's nothing to worry about." Bulma blushed faintly and gave her friend a quizzical look.

"Worried? I'm not worried. Why would I be worried or care who he's seeing? It's not like we're together – I'm with Vegeta obviously. Yamcha is perfectly ok to date whoever he likes." She rambled too quickly. Chi-Chi gave her a look but said nothing. "I should get going…Trunks needs his rest for the tournament tomorrow and it wouldn't be a good idea to have the boys beat each other half to death today when they get to do it in front of a crowd tomorrow." She smoothed her skirt before standing and pushing away from the table.

Feeling far more flustered and no less anxious she left Chi-Chi in the kitchen and briskly strode outside.

"Trunks! It's time to go home! Say goodnight to Goten - you'll see him tomorrow." She called as she dug in her purse for the capsule containing their car.

"Aw Mom… ten more minutes?" Trunks whined as the boys suddenly appeared in the air a few feet in front of her.

"No, Now." _Before I strangle Gotens mother._

* * *

><p>He stood at the end of the bed and watched the woman twist in her sleep, her legs caught in the sheets, the strap to her thin silk teddy slipping off her shoulder exposing most of her breast to his gaze. Vegeta stood silently, like a predator marking his prey, torn between leaving to find somewhere to sleep that would be quiet, letting him get the rest he would need for the morning… or release some stress with a quick session with the scantily clad woman sleeping in his bed.<p>

She sighed as if she knew what he was debating, rolling to the other side, her knees bent together as her arm stretched above her head. He had to admit that she was as stunning now as when he'd first met her. Bulma has always been attractive, but he found that as she aged, she matured in ways he did not know the human race could. Her lips were spread apart just enough to make it appear as if she were going to whisper something to him. Beckoning him to her.

The damned woman drove him crazy. Even when he found himself contemplating blowing up the entire planet just so he wouldn't have to deal with her…he knew he could never resist her. She was his Queen, his muse, his inspiration.

He silently crept closer to the bed until he stood at the edge a few inches away from her. He reached out his hand and gently cupped her exposed breast, letting his thumb flick over her quickly hardening nipple. She let out a low moan that sent a ripple of pleasure through his skin. He felt himself growing hard under his shorts as her breathing became heavier while he continued his assult with his fingers.

Moving his hand further down her body he let his finger tips glide, barely brushing the skin while leaving little goosebumps behind until he reached the center of her. She was hot and moist, the scent of arousal hitting his nose making his situation climb from uncomfortable to painfully trapped within his shorts. He needed her. Needed the connection and reminder she brought to him that this life was worth the sacrafices. It was worth the limitations that seemed to build on top of him. She groaned with a primal lust as his fingers expertly touched her. Using his free hand he pulled the shorts from his body until he stood over her naked and wanting.

Her eyes remained shut, sound asleep though enjoying the sensations coursing through her body. His hand left her only long enough to position himself at her entrance. Vegeta looked down on the sleeping woman for a second longer, letting the walls come down around his heart and admitting to himself how much this woman meant to him. He leaned forward and kissed her gently.

"I love you Bulma." he whispered softly against her lips as he kissed her once more while pushing the length of himself into her. She gasped and groaned while automatically wrapping her legs around his waist. He began to move gently, lovingly...letting himself feel the woman beneath him. Admiring the way her warmth enveloped him.

Her sleepy eyes fluttered open momentarily as she smiled and moved her head up to kiss him back, wrapping her arm around his neck and pulling him tight against her. He could feel her muscles building, her ki spiking...the flush of rose on her skin letting him know she was just as close as he was.

Moments later she ground her hips into his as he spilled himself into her and she clenched around him. Milking every last drop as she gasped and her own release found her.

"Bulma." he nuzzled against her neck. She smiled, her eyes still sleepily closed.

"...Yamcha." she whispered before falling back into a sound slumber.

Vegeta froze, pulling off of her aburptly and just as quickly forcing his clothes back on. His face remained blank of any expression as he gazed down on Bulma while she rolled over, turning her back to him. The silence stretched for what felt like hours as he stood over her, the muscles in his hands twithing uncomfortably. He forced himself to breathe, to blink, but he couldn't force himself to walk away.

He waited for the rage to encase him. To overpower everything else until there was nothing left but the desire for death and blood by his hands.

He waited.

But there was no hatred, only a black, thick, strangling pain that gripped his chest and burned. With a final glance at Bulma's peacefully sleeping face, her mouth curled into a satisfied smile as she lazily gripped the sheets, he turned his back on her and left the room.

He had been foolish to think he could find real happiness on this filthy mudball planet. Naive to think he could truly care for someone other than himself and his son. Bulma was a problem, a leech in Vegeta's life - sucking the motivation for greatness from him and leaving him nothing more than a shell of the Saiyan he was born to be.

_Never again will I be made to look the fool._ he thought to himself as his scowl deepened, the blackness moving to settle around his heart, constricting and manipulating. _They will all pay._

* * *

><p>Bulma woke to the sounds of a small body crashing into her door followed quickly by a small yip of confusion as Trunks tried again unsuccessfully to open the door.<p>

"MOM!" he yelled excitedly before rapidly knocking again and again until he heard the faint groan of acknowledgement.

"Trunks...it's barely seven in the morning. Why are you so awake." even as the words left her mouth she knew the answer to her question. The tournament was today.

"We have to hurry Mom! Everyone else is going to be there soon!"

Bulma sighed and rolled over to wake Vegeta before she realized she was in bed alone. She frowned at the abscence of the man until she felt the tell tale dampness between her thighs that proved he had been with her during the night.

"No one is getting there before noon. I already checked yesterday, we have plenty of time." she heard him slump against the door, banging his forehead as he groaned.

"But you take _forever_ to get ready in the morning. We're not going to get there until after everyone at this rate." she frowned and threw a pillow at the door, missing by several feet.

"It does NOT take me that long to get ready you brat! We will be there on time." she sat up and stretched, noticing that the house seemed a little too quiet. There was no hum of the gravity room in the distance, no sound of the television playing downstairs or the angry stammerings of a Saiyan Prince as he tried to grapple with his laundry from the cleaning bots.

"Trunks, where is your father?" she swung her legs off the edge of the bed before walking to the closet to grab her robe. Once she was fully decent she unlocked the door and watched her son fall into her room.

"I don't know. Must have left early. I don't feel his energy around here." he sat up on his knees and shrugged his shoulders. "So...we should leave early too then! Dad would want me to get there as early as possible to start warming up." She sighed, fishing in her robe pocket for a cigarette that wasn't there. Something didn't feel right.

"You're right. Ok, go get some breakfast while I get dressed and we'll head out. Deal?" Trunks jumped in the air with a whoop before scrambaling out of the room and down to the kitchen.

Bulma stretched her back before turning to her closet, knowing that she had at least a solid half hour before Trunks would be done eating.

Staying true to her word she was ready to go within the hour, and as Trunks had predicted they were still the last ones to arrive. Bulma waved when she saw Krillin and 18 standing by ChiChi and Tien. Goten paced nervously behind his mother occassionally darting a glance to his older brother who was anxiously looking over the tops of the crowd.

"No sign of Goku yet then?" she asked to no one in particular.

"Not yet. Should be soon though. Goku is late for a lot of things...but never a tournament." ChiChi sighed as she fixed her hair again before checking on Goten. Trunks stood by his mothers side, wanting to go to his best friend but feeling that now was not the right time.

"Has anyone seen Vegeta?" Bulma stood on her toes looking for any sign of the spikey hairdo she was accustomed to and frowned when she realized he wasn't anywhere around. "I didn't think he'd actually miss seeing Goku come back?"

"Dad's here" Trunks looked off into the distance as if the path were completely clear. "I can feel him standing at the back." Bulma crossed her arms over her chest debating if it was worth pushing through to crowd to go find him.

"Yamcha!" Krillin yelled shifting Bulma's attention immediately. She had done her best to ignore her ex and had almost forgotten that he would be at the event. "You made it!"

"Of course I did." he laughed, his arm drapped around a pretty girl who simply beamed at the attention. "I wouldn't miss seeing Goku for anything." his eyes raked the crowd of friends until he found her, looking as beautiful as ever. "Bulma." he nodded in a greeting, his blood pumping just a little faster. Arms wrapped themselves around his waist as the girl beside him clung defensively.

Bulma smiled back and waved, a pit forming in the bottom of her stomach. Yamcha kept his gaze focused on Bulma until she started blushing and looked away to fuss with Trunks hair. Guilt stung at her like a thousand hornets but she wasn't sure why.

In the distance Vegeta's scowl depened as his fists clenched tighter, his knuckles white against his palms. He could feel them all standing there. The pitiful monk and his robot wife, the three-eyed freak, that old pervert...Kakarots infuriating clan...but it was the prescence of _him _that darkened the princes mood from foul to deadly. He could feel them standing a few mere feet apart from each other and he ground his teeth together to fight the urge of flying over there and killing him immediately. No. When he killed the louse again - and he _would_ kill him... it would be in front of her. She would cower before him, she would understand and witness his power in it's true form.

A feeling of a strong breeze blew through his mind and his attention was diverted to the new power energy standing in front of him. A small smile slid onto his face without reaching his eyes. The woman and her human would have to wait a few more minutes to die. Vegeta pushed off from the wall he leaned on and walked over to the taller man who grinned at him like a clueless idiot.

"Welcome back Kakarot. Are you ready to die again?"

* * *

><p>AN: Oh Snap! I half wanted to continue this chapter through the tournament...but... I feel like that chapter might be best on it's own. Let me know what you think!


	8. Thunder

A/N: Hi All! Hope the wait for this chapter wasn't too horrible! As always please let me know what you think - my goal with this story is to get above 100 reviews! So please let me know what you think! Remember - a happy author writes more and often! :D

* * *

><p>His brain swam, voices screaming at him, jumbled together in a panic of needing to be heard. He forced his eyes shut and tried to drown them out. They taunted him. Laughing at his weakness, mocking his inability to ever live to his namesake. He was a <em>PRINCE. <em>A prince who was constantly bested by a clown. He lost himself, the voices teased. he was no Saiyan. He was no better than the human waste he protected now.

The distinct laugh of Freiza turned his blood to ice.

_"Silly monkey...did you ever thing you would truly be more than a stupid ape? You are just like your father. NOTHING."_

The voices piled themselves, layer after layer. Thicker, heavier, stronger than the small voice that kept trying to whisper itself.

_"I love you Vegeta."_

He couldn't hear it. Didn't want to hear it and so he pushed it away. Burying it deep where not even his subconcious would be able to pull it back in time. The other voices were right. He had forgotten himself. Lost in the years of complacency among the weaker. He had lost his quest to better himself. To be _the_ best because he was trapped among these mortals who were no better than slugs beneath his boots.

He felt it then - the small prick of something dark. Something powerful. It started at the back of his head, spreading like water, pushing into his brain and molding with his nerves. It was painful, it was torture, but it was also heaven. With every second the pain intensified and grew, but so did his power.

Babidis voice silenced the others in Vegeta's mind causing the prince to fall to his knees with a strangled cry.

"_Vegeta...let yourself go. Let me help you...push you along...Let me make you stronger than you could ever be on your own."_

The pain now covered his entire brain like a coat of tar, coating everything it touched with a sticky residue of Babidi's magic. He could feel the pinch of the markings begin to form on his face, the magic M to signify he was Babidi's puppet.

Except Vegeta was _no_ ones puppet. He was done being under anyones control. His father, Freiza, even Bulma. He was a Prince! No - he was _THE_ Prince of ALL Saiyans and he would never again come second. He would NEVER again be forced to obey someone else's rules. He would thrive, conquer, he would be the best.

He smiled as he forced the pain away. Forced his body to absorb the magic instead of succumb to it. He could feel them in the room with him, shirking back in wary curiosity. His power was incredible - for the first time in a long time he felt he could breathe.

"V-Vegeta?" the voices were silent save for the one he fixated his hatred on the most. His eyes snapped open as he found the source of his misery.

"Kakarot...are you ready to die again?"

* * *

><p>Bulma sat watching the skies with a knot in her stomach and a smile on her face as she watched Trunks and Goten battle it out in the skies above them. The two boys were barely anything more than blurs of color through the wind with the occassional sounds of thunder rolling in the air confirming contact. ChiChi sat furter down on the bench screaming encouragement and cheers for her youngest son, pride shining from her like an aura. Bulma envied the woman at that moment, wishing that she too could enjoy the day and ignore this sense of trouble that sat at the back of her mind.<p>

"You ok B?" Yamcha leaned down to ask over her shoulder. He thought about reaching out and touching her but the pretty girl besides him had wrapped herself aroundhis arm like a boa constrictor. She glanced back over her shoulder to her ex, trying to keep her face calm and indifferent.

"Of course i'm fine. I'm just nervous for Trunks."

"Oh... he'll be fine. He's fought against Goten hundreds of times - this wont be any different."

"Oh yes it will!" ChiChi turned enthusiastically, her voice still high from screaming. "This time Goten has a reason to win! This time his father is here watching him and he's not going to let him down. Trunks has his father year round so it's much less important for him." Bulma frowned.

"Just a minute - my son has just as much a right to want to win this as yours." ChiChi snorted mockingly.

"Yeah? Then why is he just standing there with one arm behind his back?" Bulma glanced up to the sky to see that sure enough, Trunks was playing a game by keeping his arm behind his back.

_Cocky and arrogant...just like his father._

With the thought of Vegeta the knot gave itself a firm jolt. Something definitely wasn't right, but she couldn't put her finger on it.

"So Yamcha... you haven't told us much about... Heather is it?" ChiChi asked, changing topics abruptly.

"Yvonne!" the young girl cut in, leaning over to joing the coversation though she refused to relinquish her hold on Yamcha.

"Oh that's right, Yvonne. So, Tell us - Yvonne - how long have you been with our Yamcha?" Yamcha rolled his eyes and tried to move his arm. Bulma rolled her eyes as well before crossing her arms across her chest and focusing her attention back to the fight. The boys now were in the air on opposite sides of the arena, gesturing and yelling at each other though they were too far away for anyone to hear.

"Long enough to know how amazing he is!" the girl giggled loudly. "though if it were up to me we'd be together ALL the time." Bulma coughed to cover a laugh while she smoothed out her skirt. "He's just amazing isn't he? I've never met a man so strong! Did you know that he was there for the cell games?! He took the beast on himself and nearly beat him before Mr. Satan showed up!"

Bulma and ChiChi glanced at each other with raised eye brows. Yamcha shifted in his seat uncomfortably.

"Come on Yvonne...there's no reason to talk about that... it wasn't anything." he turned his attention to the girl and gave her a weak smile, silently pleading.

"Well _that_ part's true at least... it really _wasn't_ anything..." Bulma mumbled. Yvonne frowned angrily before releasing Yamchas arm and picking up her soda.

"Who are you to have anything to say about Yamcha? He is the greatest man i've ever met and you know nothing about him." Bulma continued to ignore her and shook her head laughing.

"Lady, YOU have no idea. You're just some weekend whore he dragged in to make a point. I -"

Bulma gasped as suddenly ice cold soda was dumped over her head,flattening her hair and running down her shoulders, ruining the dress she wore. The people sitting around them jumped out of the way as both women fumed. Yamcha stood and jumped over the bench to stand next to Bulma, apologizing as he tried to find something to dry her off with.

"I am _not_ a weekend whore you bitch! Yamcha loves me."

"Yamcha doesn't ANYTHING you you crazy asshole!" Bulma shrieked.

"Yes he does!"

"No, he really doesn't." she ran her fingers through her hair groaning at the stickiness that was quickly forming. "This is ridiculous. I need to go change and wash my hair now." Yvonne sat hard on the bench while a collective awe of disappointed men hoping for a cat fight turned their attention once more to the boys still duking it out. Bulma grabbed her purse angrily and began pushing past people to get to the stairs that would lead to the suites.

"Bulma! Wait!" Yamcha yelled after her and she sighed as she felt his hand on her shoulder. "I'm coming with you." Bulma barked out a harsh laugh.

"No, really...you should stay with your 'true love'." she continued walking until they were at the top of the stairs.

"It's not like that and you know it... I couldn't never be with a girl like that for real." he admitted while running his hand through his hair. She frowned while crossing her arms over her chest again.

"Then why are you with her?" Yamcha focused his eyes on the woman in front of him, soda occassionally dripping from the ends of her hair.

"Because seeing you is too much. Not being able to kiss you is torture. She's a distraction from my feelings." he reached out and tilted her chin up.

"Please...don't...I cant..."

"Bulma, I love you. Always have - Always will." he leaned in and kissed her softly, his lips finding an old comfort with hers. She didn't pull away immediately, lingering on the kiss that felt so familiar and foreign at the same time.

"Yamcha..." she whispered into his mouth. He responded by kissing her harder, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her tight against him. His tongue snaked along her bottom lip wanting to be let in and she opened her mouth slightly to let him. She let her hands roam, one in his hair and the other down his back. She could feel his blood rush and his skin getting hotter under her touch. She could get lost in this kiss forever. It would be all too easy to forget the world around her and just live in this moment. But the knot in her stomach gave another jolt and she forced herself to pull away.

"Yamcha." she tried again, "I love - "

The sound of thunder hit them first as they turned to face the stadium that had quickly disolved from the carefree atmosphere to a darker shade of panic. Women began screaming as people flooded from their seats, racing to leave the stadium. Out of the corner of her eye she clasped her hand over her mouth in horror as she saw the smoke towering from the middle of the seats - the smell of burning flesh thick in the air. It looked as if a bomb had exploded and the two fought to stay still as the crowds shoved by them.

Fear gripped Bulma's chest as she scanned the sky for any sign of Trunks or Goten.

"Where are the boys?!"

"Bulma..." Yamcha pulled her close to him as he motioned to the stadium ground where they could barely make out the two Saiyan men's forms. Vegeta stood across from Goku, lightning rippling around him like a brutal storm.

"What are they doing?..." she asked as she tried to take a step forwards but was halted by Yamchas tight grip on her. "Yamcha let me go i need to find out what's happening!" she struggled against the man but his grip only got tighter. "Vegeta!" she cried out, her voice deaf compared to the screams of the people surrounding them. Somehow though, he heard her. His head turning slightly to face her and she knew - even though they stood a mile apart - that he saw her clearly. His face was hard, an angry scowl lining his face as he took in the sight of Yamcha protectively embracing her.

"Vegeta!" she tried again, fear coating her throat making it hard to yell. The knot in her stomach exploded into full body panic. Vegeta continued to stare at her, his eyes cold. Hatred spilling from him in waves as he slowly raised a single gloved hand in her direction.

Her eyes widened in horror as she realized what was about to happen and the world went white.

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><p>AN : A bit shorter than I originally wanted...but...this was the appropriate place to end. Please leave a review and let me know what you think!

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	9. Agony

A/N: Thank you so much for the reviews! you guys are amazing! It's definitely motivation to write faster when I know people are enjoying and invested in the story! Let me know how you like this chapter with a quick review! I really appreciate all the compliments and I love reading what you guys think will/should happen to the characters :) Hopefully I wont disappoint you!

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><p>The darkness swallowed her completely, trapping her legs and arms to her sides. She struggled, but found the efforts exhausting and gave up easily. From everything she had heard of dying from her friends – she hadn't expected this. She felt heavy, broken, and miserable. She choked on a sob and found she could take shallow breaths if she concentrated.<p>

A blinding white light. The heat of the sun burning her. Flashes of her last moments fluttered to her mind. _Vegeta_.

Pain stabbed through her heart, ripping through her chest and spreading vile through her veins until every inch of her physically hurt. _Vegeta. _She wanted to cry. What had happened to him? The Vegeta she knew, the man she loved would never actually raise his hand to her with the intent of hurting her… sure, he joked about it… it was part of their dynamic. He would threaten to kill her and blow up the planet, she would tell him he was an arrogant asshole too stupid to do anything without her… but to _actually_ try and kill her?

_Trunks!_

A new panic flew through her, as she fought against the shadow restraints. Her baby! Where was he? Would Vegeta do anything to hurt him too? Had he gotten away in time? Who would take care of him now that she was gone? Her muscles screamed as she tried harder and harder to move herself to no avail. She screamed inside her head, the anger growing as she fought harder. She needed to get up. She needed to find her son!

"Bulma?" a faint voice pricked her ears and she calmed down enough to focus on the sound. "Bulma can you hear me?"

_Yes_ she thought. _Yes I can. _

"I think her eyes are fluttering." Another voice whispered. "I think she's waking up."

She struggled, using the anger to fuel her efforts to move. Her muscles burned but she pushed through until she felt one arm pop free of its hold. She barked a laugh mentally in pride and she tried to re-create the efforts for her other arm.

"Do you think it's a good idea we're all here? I mean…won't she –"

"It's fine. She needs us."

"Yeah but Trunks –"

"Look! She's moving her arm. Bulma? Bulma you need to wake up!" she felt a jostle as someone heavy sat next to her.

"What she needs is to rest. She's been through a lot."

"She needs to know what happened! She can't just – Bulma?" her eyes fluttered open briefly at the sound of Trunk's name. Settling back down, she allowed herself one more moment rest before shoving herself into a conscious state.

She squinted as she adjusted to the lights above her. She was too warm, under a thick blanket despite the hot summer air outside. She wiggled and found she could move her arms and legs freely again and sighed a breath of relief.

"Trunks…" she croaked out, her throat dry as she turned her head in search of a glass of water.

"He's not here Bulma." ChiChi's face crowded her vision, the woman's face streaked with tear marks and her eyes puffy red showing she'd only recently stopped sobbing. "He and Goten flew off together with Piccolo after Vegeta." Bulma sat up quickly, the blood rushing from her head, her eyes wild and with fear.

"Why would they do that?! Do they think they can take him on themselves? They can't be serious! They're just children!"

"They're not trying to take on Vegeta…" ChiChi sobbed. "They went after to help fight Majin Buu." And with that ChiChi lost herself to another fit of tears as she walked across the room to find a tissue. Bulma took a moment to look around the room they sat in, it wasn't anything grand and looked to be a cheap hotel with a single queen bed, outdated red carpeting and blinds that were thrown open to see the destruction taking place just outside. Yamcha stood by the window. His face in a deep scowl as he surveyed the action outside. As her senses returned she suddenly could make out the wails of sirens in the distance as ambulances, fire trucks and hundreds of police flew around the streets looking to pull people to safety.

It was as chaotic as when Cell had terrorized the cities.

"How did we get here? What happened? Who's Majin Buu?" She looked from ChiChi to Yamcha but both seemed too preoccupied to answer. ChiChi sobbed harder at the mention of Buu and Yamcha's arms flexed as he punched a wall, leaving a deep hole. She waited another moment before scowling. "Excuse me – but what the hell is going on! The last think I remember is the boys fight, a bright white light and being sure I was dead…and now there's a mad man on the loose? What the hell is happening?!"

"I took us here." Yamcha said, still refusing to turn his attention away from the streets. "I saw the attack… there wasn't any time. Vegeta just…I grabbed you and Gohan managed to grab Videl and ChiChi but the others…" Bulma covered her mouth in horror. So she hadn't imagine it…they had been attacked.

"But… there were thousands of people…" she shook her head, unable to accept that Vegeta had purposefully killed thousands of people in an attempt to get her. "The boys? What happened to the boys?"

"They all went after him. After the blast…Vegeta just flew off. As if nothing had happened. He was _laughing_ Bulma. Like a fucking monster. Laughing at the death he just caused. He was _happy_! Goku took off after him. I've never seen him look so outraged… the rest of the guys were going to fly off after them but then…"

"He killed the rest of the Bulma! They just…all disappeared at once and he was eating… I think he was eating them." ChiChi nearly screamed, horrified. "We were too far away for him to get us but… it was awful."

"Who?!"

"Majin Buu."

Bulma's head spun from all the information. She felt like she had been asleep for a week to miss all of this instead of a few hours. Thousands of people dead…from Vegeta's hand and this Majin Buu character… the boys were gone…and she was sitting uselessly on the bed.

"We have to help them." She said with more conviction than she felt. "We have to do something."

"What can we do?" ChiChi laughed sarcastically. "We're a bunch of useless humans stuck in the middle of yet another alien battle." She threw her hands up and went to sit on the bed next to Bulma.

"That's not fair… we have Goku, Vege-" she stopped herself, her voice catching in her throat. She saw Yamcha flex his arms again before crossing them over his chest. His knuckles were white on his biceps.

"Yeah, great plan. My dead husband who's only on earth for one day and the psychopath you're shacked up with that just murdered half the city!"

"Hey! That's _NOT_ the Vegeta I know. He would never –"

"How often is he bragging about how many lives he took while working for Freiza hmm? How many times has he threatened to do this EXACT thing Bulma?" Yamchas voice was furiously low as he spoke through gritted teeth. "Wake up and realize that he is no less a monster than when he first came to this planet!"

"No. I don't believe it… something's wrong with him…he's not himself!"

"Enough! What will it take to make you realize that he's not who you thought he was! He is the bad guy Bulma! He always has been! Jesus… I have been fighting to protect you from him for too long and even still, even after he tries to MURDER you, does murder half a stadium – you STILL try to take his defense. He is EVIL." Yamcha yelled before turning to face her. ChiChi glanced from the woman besides her to the man in front of them. Quietly she went to the bathroom and shut the door. A moment later the sound of the shower running signaled to Yamcha that she was trying to give them a little privacy.

Bulma pulled her knees to her chest and bit her lip hard to prevent it from trembling. Yamcha sat in front of her, grabbing her hand and holding it firmly.

"Bulma… if he'd been a second faster… if I'd been a second slower…I couldn't live with the idea of your death. I love you for Christ's sake… why cant you just accept it?" Bulma looked away and shook her head, not wanting to have this conversation. "I don't get it… you want me? You don't want me? You come to me when we're together… I know you feel the fire between us. I know you crave me just as much as I crave you. Why then…why do you stay with him?"

"Yamcha…"

"No. I don't need another dance around. I want you. I need an answer from you. You need to open your eyes and see that it's over between the two of you. I think trying to kill the other person is a pretty clear sign the relationship is over. Let me protect you. Let me love you." He pulled her head gently towards him and kissed her chastely on the lips. "I love you Bulma Briefs."

Bulma sat there for a moment completely shocked. It was too much… the fight, her son disappearing, the deaths, a new monster…she couldn't handle it. The tears began spilling faster than she could wipe them away with the back of her hand.

"Yamcha. I love Vegeta." She managed between sobs. "I've been so selfish with the two of you… I let – I let myself get wrapped up in the attention… I…I know Vegeta didn't mean to do this… he…he loves me too…I need to find him." Yamcha dropped her hand and without a word stood up and left the room. Slamming the door behind him Bulma heard the tell-tale whoosh of air as he took off. Another moment passed by before the bathroom door creaked open and ChiChi popped out.

"Is everything ok?" Bulma wiped at her face, smearing any makeup she had been wearing noticing the other womans face looked just the same. Without warning she felt a chuckle bubble up in her throat and escape. ChiChi looked at her in bewilderment as the single chuckle turned into a collection before she was full on laughing. ChiChi smirked despite her best efforts.

"Ok…" Bulma gasped. "Of all the words in the dictionary… why not. 'Ok' seems just as good to describe todays shit show as any other." She calmed down, taking a deep breath before swinging her feet over and standing up.

"We need to find the boys." She told her friend. "We need to do what we can to help."

"But Vegeta…" ChiChi asked cautiously.

"Is with your husband. Do you really think Goku would let him hurt anyone else? Something's wrong with Vegeta and I need to find out what so we can fix it."

"What do we do?"

"We fly around and look for the biggest shit storm we can see. They won't be far away."

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><p>Vegeta sucked in another ragged breath that tore through his lungs painfully. To put it mildly, he hurt. He could feel a broken rib jabbing into him and could taste the blood in his mouth as it filled his stomach. He wanted nothing more than to collapse right where he was and just let the creature finish him off. He glared at the giant pink gumball in front of him, laughing and dancing as if he wasn't phased in the slightest.<p>

Vegeta growled in annoyance and guilt. He'd once again been foolish and vain and now where did he stand? It was all for nothing. The training, the struggles, accepting the Majin power... he still fell short. He was broken, a failure...he deserved his fate.

He lowered himself to the ground with strained effort and he fought to stay on his own two feet. _Bulma..._ he'd lost sight of her in the haze of power. Convinced he was better without her, better without Trunks. That they were holding him back. But he'd been wrong...about everything.

He would never be stronger than Kakarott.

He would never achieve greatness on his own.

He did need his family by his side. They weren't a weakness, they were the source of his strength.

He had been a fool for months, letting Bulma start to slip away from him and into the arms of another man. He should have fought for her, shown her every single day why she was a Prince and not a pathetic human.

Vegeta spit on the ground cursing Yamcha in every language he knew. No doubt they would be together right now. He had tried to kill her, and almost succeeded. There was no possible chance she would still be with him. He raised his gaze to stare at the blob floating above him, oblivious to the turmoil below. The monster would destroy his home. He couldn't let that happen... he may not be strong enough, but he was the only hope Earth had. Goku lay unconcious under a pile of rocks he himself had put there and even if he was strong enough to fight - he had less than a day remaining on earth. Gohan was gone and the rest? No. This was what he had waited for his entire life...to be the strongest warrior. The irony struck him hard that it was also the first time in his life he hoped for someone to come to his aid.

"Dad!" Vegeta craned his neck around to see Trunks flying at him to land a few feet away. He looked scared, hurt, and weary. Vegeta didn't blame him.

"Trunks you need to leave."

"No! We came to help! We can fight with you Dad!"

"We?" Vegeta looked over his sons head in the distance and saw Goten hanging back by a few thousand feet. Vegeta shook his head, realizing that he hadn't even felt their powers approaching. He was in worse shape than originally thought. "No. You both need to leave. It isn't safe here for you."

"It isn't safe _anywehere_ right now...at least here we can be helpful." Vegeta smiled. His boy. A true Saiyan warrior and Prince. He had raised him well, taught him well. "We're not leaving." Trunks frowned, a stubborn look on his face that mirrored his mothers. Vegeta felt his heart constrict knowing he would never see Bulma again besides in his sons expression.

He looked to the sky again and knew he was running out of time and nerve. Soon his energy would be gone and he wouldn't have enough strength to do what needed to be done.

"Trunks... son. Have I ever held you?" Trunks took a step back and looked at his dad skeptically.

"uh...no...why?"

"Come here." his legs felt heavier, his vision blurring as the blood dripped on the ground and his lungs began to fill with the heavy fluid. Reaching out an arm he pulled Trunks in to him and hugged him tight. The boy was unsure what to do and stood awkwardly, embraced by his father for the first time. "Trunks... i'm proud of you and the man you're becoming. Never change, and never forget that...protect your mother." His head throbbed, his knees shook. He had moments left before he collapsed on the spot but he kept his face strong and blank for his son. He would not let Trunks see him weak. He allowed himself one more look at his son, the boys bright eyes shining just as Bulmas did and it was a comfort.

With a swift motion Vegeta hit the pressure point in Trunk's neck and knocked him out cold. A yell in the distance grew louder as Goten flew at him screaming. Vegeta swayed and felt out for the nearest strength.

"Take the boys someplace safe." he said outloud, hoping someone would hear him before just as quickly knocking Goten out and laying him next to Trunks. Carefully, making sure to only as much energy as he needed to rise to the height of the monster he flew into the clouds. Glancing below he saw the Namekian scoop both children up before flying off and away. He sighed in relief, at least he could protect his son if only just this once.

Focusing on his remaining strength on the energy in his body he pulled everything into his core. He could feel his body swell, expanding to it's breaking point as he willed for more. The pain was extinguished by the fact that it was too immense for his brain to comprehend.

Majin Buu stopped dancing to turn and stare at the glowing Saiyan warrior, confused as to what was happening. Vegeta let it consume him and granted himself one final moment to remember Bulma's smile before the world exploded around him.

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><p>Bulma jerked the plane as they hovered over the water. Her heart throbbed, a pain she had never felt before as it rocked her to the core.<p>

"Bulma? What's wrong?" ChiChi asked in concern as she reached over and put her hand on her friends shoulder.

"I...I don't know..." she glanced out the window in time to see a brilliant white light flash hundreds of miles to the west of them. "But it doesn't feel good..."

"We'll have Dende look you over at Kami's lookout."

"Yeah... of course." she said, settling back into her seat, watching the light from the corner of her eye. A single tear escaped, rolling down her cheek.

It only took them several more minutes before the reached their destination which spilled over with loved ones searching for each other. ChiChi nearly lept off the moving craft as Bulma tried to land it when she saw Goten standing off to the side looking miserable. ChiChi swooped up her son and immediately scoured his body for bumps and bruises, asking him dozens of questions in soft soothing voices. Bulma glanced around the area herself, spotting Krillin standing very close to 18, Videl stood awkwardly amongst the Son family, Piccilo remained in the shadows, mysterious as ever...but Bulma didn't see either of the faces she was hoping to.

"He's over here Bulma!" ChiChi yelled over her shoulder before scooping her youngest in another hug.

Bulma ran to where ChiChi sat and saw sitting on the ground with his back to everyone Trunks. He was dirty, a little roughed up and very upset - but otherwise he was safe and uninjured. She let out a heavy breath she didn't know she'd been holding as she slowed to a walk and slowly sat next to her son.

Trunks looked up at his mom, unspilled tears brimming at his eyes while he silently laid his head on her shoulder. Bulma laughed in relief and wrapped her arms around the boy holding him tight against her before kissing his head.

"Trunks... i'm so sorry..." she whispered into his hair as she gave him another kiss on his head. "I'm so, so, sorry."

"I'm sorry too Mom... I should have been there for protect you... I...Dad...Dad told me to protect you." Bulma hugged her son tighter.

"You haven't done anything to apologize for. I should be protecting you from this, not the other way around. I love you so much sweetheart."

They sat together in silence for twenty minutes, taking comfort in the strength of one another. When the familiar pop of an arrival hit them they both jumped in excitement.

"Vegeta?" Bulma whispered hopefully as she held Trunks hand and they firmly pushed their way to the front of the group. ChiChi was already there, her arms wrapped around Goku's neck as she cried hysterically into his shoulder.

"I thought I'd never see you again!" she wailed. Bulma glanced around hoping to spot Vegeta..._her_ Vegeta... standing behind him and frowned when she saw Goku was alone.

"Gohan...Vegeta..." Goku choked out while pulling ChiChi off of him long enough to address the crowd. "They're gone."

"Gone?" someone in the crowd asked.

"Yes." Goku said, the pain apparent in his voice. "They're both dead."

The silence stretched for what felt like hours. Time stopped as the words sunk into Bulma's head. Dead...Vegeta...he was dead. She held Trunk's hand tightly at looked at her son, openly weeping though unable to make any noise. Bulma wanted to cry but she was too spent...to tired from the horrific day.

She fell to her knees and did the only thing she could. She screamed until the world went black.

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><p>AN: So Bulma finally chose between the two men! Do you think she should forgive Vegeta? Do you think Vegeta should forgive Bulma? I'm going to be skipping ahead a bit in the next chapter mostly because... Vegeta's dead so...not much to write for him! lol Let me know what you think! More reviews = happy author = faster updates!

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	10. Realization

**A/N: Yikes! I hadn't realized that six months had gone by without an update... I'm so sorry! I blame writers block and the fact that I got caught up reading other people's stories! I had a few general ideas I wanted to take this story but none felt quite right. I had a few drafts composed but they just didn't... work. And then of course it's the struggle of deciding how long to make the story. Do I continue for another 20 chapters? or do I end it in 3?**

**Again, I apologize for the wait! But - I am beyond THRILLED to see that we're just a few reviews away from 100! That would make this my most popular story to date! Come on guys! Help a lady out :)**

**Thank you to everyone who takes the time to read and review the chapters! It brightens my day and makes doing this all the more worth it!**

**Let us continue now...**

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><p>The first time he died Vegeta remembered being much too cold. It was worse than as if his bones had turned to ice – it was a freeze that filled his very cells and exploded into white hot agony. To be so cold you felt as if you were on fire was how he had been damned to suffer the eternities along with the cries of his many victims. Shrieks, pleas, the sounds of millions choking to death on their own blood haunted him. Reminded him of the monster he had been. He knew he deserved every second of misery. He deserved to suffer…and then the worst thing imaginable had happened. He had been wished back to life.<p>

To live with the memories of his numerous failures as a warrior … to have died at the hands of the tyrant who enslaved him, killed his family, his birth right – his race… to see the prophecy he himself had been promised at birth attained by a third class _clown _who hadn't even heard the term Saiyan used until a year ago…to spend eternity knowing he would never have his revenge against Frieza, against Kakarott - that was worse than any physical pain the afterlife could force on him.

Vegeta's first death was not something he was meant to recover from and had spent every day in misery since.

Now, after his second death at the hands of yet another enemy he could not defeat, Vegeta's conscious mind awaited the same foul punishments as before. Except, they never came. Instead he was thrust into the nothingness of death. No sound, no feeling, no color. He was forced to remain in complete darkness with nothing but the nightmares of his mortal life to accompany him for all of time.

No, Vegeta was not plagued with memories of his failures again with Freiza, or Cell, nor even Buu. No. For this hell – he was forced to relive the happy times. The first time he saw Bulma on Namek and felt something other than contempt for a living being. The first time he felt the swell of pride in his son as he struggled and overcame his own short comings to win. The way the woman melted into his arms – unafraid of the monster he truly was and loving him all the same. To see them…feel them was not a comfort – but a terrible reminder of everything he had given up and wasted. Pushed away. The guilt of knowing he would never again feel the love of his family… For the first time since his first death Vegeta wanted nothing more than to be alive.

Vegeta's second death was not something he was meant to suffer forever though unbeknownst to him. The floating fortuneteller watched in horror as every one of Earths last hero's quickly began falling to the monster terrorizing the planet. Soon…too soon…the world would be destroyed. There was only one option. He was needed back on Earth. She would leave him with a warning though before he would be sent back – The next time would be forever. This was his last chance. He could embrace the monster he was and suffer the fate he had only been given a glimpse of – or he could be the hero had the potential to become and spend his after life with the people he loved. One chance, one choice.

Surely he would not make the same mistakes again.

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><p>She had stared death in the face hundreds of times and loved the adventure it brought with it. Growing up with Goku had meant you were forced to develop a thick skin against creatures far from the typical imagination, horrors that made your skin crawl, and forcing yourself to keep calm even when presented with certain defeat. She had traveled planets, designed technology that was literally out of this world, her best friend had lived with the gods for goodness sake! She was Bulma Brief! The most important and influential woman on all of Earth! On top of all of that – she had tamed the wild, ferocious Saiyan Prince. The terror of the galaxies… this young, pathetically weak human woman had single handedly taken one of the most notoriously evil men known to exist and have a family with him. A family she was proud of despite recent events with her manic murderous lover.<p>

Yet, as the pink creature towered over her. It's empty black sockets for eyes coldly staring down at her, its mouth parted in a terrifying grin letting her count every one of its razor sharp teeth… her heart pounded in a terror she had never known. Her eyes glanced down at the spot where the egg shell still sat. An egg that had once somehow been her friend and waves of hopeless dread filled her chest. Gohan was gone, Goku and Vegeta – their only hopes lay trapped behind a door that had been blasted sealed. Keeping those inside safe, while simultaneously dooming the rest of Earth.

She couldn't scream, the air having left her lungs. She turned her head to look at the destroyed door that kept her son far far away from this monster and sent a small thanks to Dende that despite whatever would happen to her – her son would live unharmed. What more, he was with Piccolo and Goten. Together, the three would find a way out – and when they did… she prayed they would be smart enough to leave. Flee to New Namek and start a new life away from this horror.

Super Buu laughed, the sound raising the hair on her arms as she stumbled backwards away from him, watching with wide eyes as he whispered the words to end her life, to end all their lives.

A warmth spread over her skin and she felt calmness fill her for the first time in weeks.

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><p>King Yemma buried his face into his hands, foolishly hoping if he refused to acknowledge the small floating woman in front of him perhaps she would go away.<p>

"You don't seem to understand the severity of the situation Yemma. We _need_ him." Her brows furrowed in anxious desperation.

"And as I've mentioned to you _Baba_ – we already released Goku for that exact reason! You can't expect me to bend the rules for everyone just because one planet in one galaxy needs the protection. Do you know how many planets die out every year? How many species are purged – in fact – the particular man you are trying to release from here is one of the reasons we no longer have a planet Costa or planet Garlood or anyone from the race of Laulee!" his face began turning shade of purple and Baba threw her hands up in surrender.

"Believe me – I know what Vegeta has done. But dammit Yemma, this isn't about sparing one planet above the rest… this is about stopping the mass genocide of entire galaxies. It's why the Kai's got involved – and they _never_ get involved… Earth might be the first planet to fall, but it's also the only planet with warriors strong enough to possibly stop this before it spreads. Do you really know of any other planets that house as many warriors on the levels of Earth?" King Yemma sighed and buried his head into his hands.

"The paper work would be outrageous to push this through at this speed…at least when Goku returned we had a few months to prepare…you're asking me to pull a miracle" Baba folded her arms across her chest and pulled the ace from her pocket.

"I'm trying to help you avoid thousands of _years_' worth of paper work if Buu gets his hands on other planets. Think of how many millions of people will suddenly show up on your door step if he's left to wander the entire universe!" King Yemma's face paled.

"Alright! I see your point. Bring the man here… I'll start working on the documents needed to get him his one day pass – but that's all I can promise. One day. After that…there's nothing I can do." He leaned back in his chair and sighed, sending a silent prayer to the kai's that Vegeta would be able to help fix this problem. He truly did not relish the idea of dealing with the case loads of multiple planets worth of people.

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><p>Vegeta had not been granted the honor of keeping his body after he died. According to King Yemma, he hadn't really done anything in his life worthy of it. He wasn't a hero like Kakarott…but he wasn't as evil a villain as Freiza or Cell. So when he suddenly could move his fingers, when he could blink his eyes and move his jaw it took him a few minutes to realize that this was real. He really had his body back. He took a moment to glance at himself, checking for any remaining damage from his self-destruction and was surprised to find that not even the Majin mark remained on his forehead.<p>

"What is this?" he asked gruffly to the floating figure in front of him without maintaining his eyes on her.

"You're needed back on earth." She floated closer, scanning his body as well ensuring that Yemma had not cut any corners. She didn't need to waste their one chance with Vegeta with him in sub-par conditions. Vegeta looked up and met her eyes before snorting.

"What could I possibly do to help… I proved to be useless against Buu. Why not get Kakarott or his brat –"

"Both already have tried, both cannot beat him themselves." She did not smile and Vegeta felt a child run down his spine from the way she slowly said the words.

"And you think if I help them that the three of us –"

"No." Vegeta growled. He loathed being interrupted for any reason. "Gohan has been absorbed by Buu."

"Absorbed? But…how?"

"That's not important!" the witch snapped before putting her face directly in front of Vegeta's. "You need to go back to earth NOW and help Goku stop this madness before it's too late! I've seen the future and if Buu is not stopped…" she shook her head, her mind lost to a barren future where death, decay and fear ruled. "Bulma and Trunks are in danger Vegeta."

He straightened a little taller, his eyes widening just a fraction at the mention of his family. He had ended his own life to protect them from this exact horror and now they were still in danger.

But, he was being given another chance to save them. He could happily accept, protect them again…have another chance to tell Bulma –

"What's the catch?" his mouth said before his brain could catch up. He was no fool, years working for Frieza had taught him that missions were never to benefit the one being asked to go.

"Catch? There's no catch. This isn't a _deal_ Vegeta, this is a plea for help. King Yemma can grant you your one day pass but we need you to use it to stop Buu before it's too late. We have no other options. You're the Earths… the entire galaxy's last hope." Vegeta shifted his weight from foot to foot. "be the hero for once Vegeta…now is your opportunity to show everyone that you're one of the good guys. That you're not a monster."

Not a monster? A hero? He had spent his life killing, enjoying the hunt and slaughter… so many lives… could he really turn it around just like that?

Really, what did he have to lose?

He nodded once curtly and felt more than saw the anxiety leave Baba's body.

"Good! Let's get you back to Earth now then."

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><p>Bulma sighed and Videl and ChiChi bickered over Gohan's college choices. Honestly, she felt bad for the guy…growing up poor Gohan was either dealing with his mother's crazy expectations for education, or his father's terrible habit of throwing him into a fight that would nearly kill him, and now his girlfriend also seemed to have a very strong opinion as to what he would be doing with his future. Didn't he get a say at all about anything? When did Gohan get a chance to decide what <em>he<em> wanted to do with his life! He had earned the right to make up his own mind after all.

"I just don't understand why you think he would like a career in the sciences! He _obviously_ has a passion for justice and defending people! Law is the most logical choice for him!" Videl tried to keep her voice level as her hands balled into fists against her side, her cheeks turning a slight shade of pink.

"You've known him for what, a week? He's _MY_ son Videl! Don't you forget that! I've always known what is best for him and always will." Chichi snarled before floating to get in Videl's face.

"Time to cut the cord! He's a man now, not a toddler and he wants to come to college with me!"

"No – he wants to do what it takes to take care of his family and that means staying close to home!"

"Why would he need to stay close?! He can fly! He literally can be anywhere on the planet and be home within twenty minutes!" while the two women growled at each other Bulma sighed. When they had first realized and accepted that they were in heaven the trio had been confused, then happy to at least be together while waiting for the others to show up. When none did they began to assume the best – the others had survived because of their super human strength. Now all they had to do was wait to be brought back with the dragon balls.

And so they waited…and waited…and gossiped, and then talked some, and eventually ended where they are now. Bickering about Gohan when the poor boy wasn't around to defend himself.

"You know… maybe Gohan would rather be, I don't know… a journalist? Or a comedian? Or how about an architect!" Bulma snickered but stopped when she saw two sets of furious eyes turn in her direction.

"An Architect?"

"A Comedian?!"

"Sure…why not?" Bulma shrugged and picked some imaginary lint from her dress. "He's spent his whole life doing what he's told, he should get the chance to do whatever it is he really wants to do without being told. Don't you think?" Videl frowned while Chichi snorted.

"That's rich Bulma. Coming from you that's down right ironic isn't it?" Bulma raised a surprised eyebrow before planting her hands on her hips.

"What is that supposed to mean exactly? Trunks is allowed to make his own decisions! We've never pushed him to do anything he didn't really want to do."

"Not Trunks" Chichi cut her off before smoothing her hair down with an air of arrogance. "I'm talking about the Saiyan prisoner you keep in your house." Bulma gasped and felt her chest tighten in shock.

"Excuse me? Prisoner? I cant imagine you're possibly talking about Vegeta...What does he have to do with this at all? He's a grown man who –"

"who has been told what to do, where to be, and how to do it since he was what, a toddler? After Frieza dies then what happens… he moves in with you and is built machines meant to entice him to stay and protect you. Protect the earth, you tricked him to stay didn't you? Goaded him by his desire to beat Goku… Face it, you may not want to admit it to yourself…but you fell in love with a hired thug who was never given the chance to be anything else in life." Bulma stood speechless for the first time in her life. "Maybe instead of worrying about what _my_ son would prefer doing in his life, you should be worrying about what your … companion would rather be doing with his life."

"First of all - he is more than just my companion...we just... haven't talked about officially getting married or anything since...well...it's our business! Secondly, Vegeta has always been a warrior…he's said that. He loves fighting just as much as Goku does! It's the Saiyan in him." Bulma felt a lump in her stomach, knowing that Chichi was right.

"You poor woman…for as smart as you are with everything else you really would make a lousy therapist. You don't ever seem to really _listen_ to what Vegeta says do you?" Bulma stared at her wide eyed. Enraged, and starting to feel the beginnings of an over powering guilt manifesting itself. "Vegeta talks about being a warrior yes, but how often does he feel the need to remind people that on his planet he was a Prince? He was meant to rule his people… lead them. Build an empire! He may be a warrior…but what he's always wanted was to lead his people as a ruler." Chichi smiled at the discomfort Bulma was clearly demonstrating. "Maybe he would have liked to have been a politician? Or a General in the military? But no, instead you keep him locked up and away to use as your own personal secret weapon."

Bulma ground her teeth together, her temper no longer able to be contained. She opened her mouth unsure of what exactly would come out when Videl stepped between the two women and threw her hands up.

"Look at us! Dead for a few hours and we cant stop bickering about the boys! Can't we just agree to at the very least not worry about what the boys will be doing with their lives until we know whether or not there will _be_ any lives to live?" Bulma and Chichi glared at each other for a moment before finally both their shoulders sagged in defeat and they looked off into the distance awkwardly.

"I'm sorry Bulma. I just...get a little crazy when it comes to Gohan." Chichi said with clipped words.

"yeah... I'm sorry too." Bulma replied, more out of formality than sincerity. It was lucky they were already dead, if they'd been on earth - Bulma would have killed the other woman right where she stood.

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><p>Vegeta felt like collapsing into a pile and sleeping for at least four years. His bones ached, his muscles burned, his blood even hurt. With a weak laugh he let his head fall back against the rocks and tried to focus on anything beyond the throbbing pain in his skull. The Kai's hadn't been kidding when they said Buu was a monster... mind you, they had failed to mention the several <em>forms<em> Buu was capable of taking on, and while a small part of his mind felt guilty over being the one responsible for giving so much energy that had been needed to awaken the creature - he felt a small bit of redemption that indeed, it had taken he and Kakarott to finally slay the beast.

Like true Saiyans.

Truly the strongest race ever known. His father would have been proud he liked to think.

He licked his cracked lips, tasting the salty mix of blood and dirt as he turned his head enough to see Kakarott standing a few feet away, hands on his hips, breathing deeply. He looked just as bad as the Prince felt, but for the first time Vegeta watched him with a hint of awe. They really did make a good team together. Perhaps...instead of rivals they could be...comrades? The idea sent a ripple through him and he groaned. It would take some adjusting...some getting used to but, just maybe they could even be friends.

Goku let out a small laugh and coughed up a bit of blood before wiping it away with his arm and extending his hand to the fallen Saiyan.

Maybe.

"Come on Vegeta...we've still got one more thing to do before we can take a nap. We have to wish everyone back." Vegeta groaned and let the taller man help him to his feet. His thighs burned but he would not collapse again with Kakarott able to stand with no assistance.

"Always thinking of everyone else... just this once cant we be selfish and go get something to eat first?" Goku narrowed his eyes a bit before shaking his head and putting his trademark smirk on his face.

"it's because we were selfish that we got in this situation to begin with you know." Vegeta grunted in response. "Besides, aren't you in the least bit excited to see Bulma and Trunks again?"

He felt the wind knocked out of his chest, forcing a fit of coughs to start. Yes. He was very much looking forward to seeing his lover and son...and no. He was also dreading the moment, knowing long conversations were soon to be forced to take place.

As Goku summoned the dragon and made his wish Vegeta tried to calm his beating heart, he had done terrible things in his past that the woman had been able to forgive. Surely this would be no different.

_You tried to kill her_ a nasty voice whispered in his mind. He frowned forcing the thought away as suddenly a mass of people appeared in front of them.

Before he could scan the crowd a pair of arms flung themselves around his neck at enough force to make him stumble backwards. Trunks little body clung to his father, silent tears pouring from his face, soaking and burning the bloody gashes in his shoulder. He ignored the pain though as he wrapped one arm around his son and squeezed back as much as he could. Relief flooding him as he felt his son's ki energy was alive, well and normal.

"Dad..." Trunks sputtered out before burying his face once more.

Vegeta scanned the crowd, family upon family reunited, crying, hysterically laughing and cheering... when he finally found the pair of blue eyes he had missed the most he felt his heart stop completely.

_She's breath taking _ he thought to himself. As their eyes locked all doubt and worry left him as he became focused on one thing only. To feel her, taste her, to have proof beneath his fingers that she was really here, really with him... really alive again. Her mouth parted a fraction to call out his name but he was already on her, his fingers running through her hair, his lips crushing against hers as he invaded her mouth with his tongue. Teasing her, pleading with her...needing her.

She threw her arms around his neck and lost herself to him, surprised by the public display of affection he was normally adamantly against - but too relieved to have him with her to actually care.

Vegeta's heart swelled with an unusual amount of happiness as he held his family tight to him. He would never let them go again.

The two lovers pulled away to take a few deep breaths as Trunks made a face at his parents kissing before laughing and squeezing his dad once more.

"Vegeta -"

"Woman...Bulma...I..."

"No, Please let me -"

"I love you." he whispered the words and her eyes widened. For him to say such things out loud... in front of the others...she hastily began wiping at her cheeks as tears began streaming down. "Bulma... I... without you...I'm nothing. I thought...I was convinced that..." he growled in frustration. Why was it so hard to say these things to her.

"Vegeta..." more tears began streaming down her face. Vegeta reached up and wiped a few away with a dirty hand leaving a trail of dirt behind.

"Woman, whatever it is you want to say...later. Right now... I want to get us home. I want to rinse this filth off and then take you to bed." Trunks made another disgusted sound and waving a Goten who was currently smothered beneath his hysterical mother.

"Vegeta that's what I'm trying to tell you... I...I don't think we should be going home together right now." her voice broke as she finished her sentence, fading off into a whisper as more tears began pouring from her eyes.

"I... I don't think we should be together anymore."

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><p><strong>AN: Dun dun duuuuuuuuun**

**Hopefully the length of this chapter will somewhat work as an apology for the length of time in between chapters!**

**As always, thank you for reading and please let me know what you think! come on 100! we're so close!**


	11. Choices

**A/N: Hello! I just want to say a giant, whole hearted THANK YOU to every single one of you who took the time to read the story, leave me a review, send a message… I am floored by the support I'm receiving. It is absolutely encouraging to see the thousands of people who have read through the entire story!**

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><p>"<em>I don't think we should be together anymore." <em>

He heard the words clearly, each syllable, every flick of her tongue against her teeth as she said the words was imprinted on his brain. He heard the words. He saw her say the words…but he still couldn't believe them. Was she rejecting him? Kicking him out? Telling him she didn't love him anymore? The relief he had felt just seconds ago instantly vanished along with the rest of the world as he focused his eyes on hers. Confusion splayed openly on his face. Bulma bit her lip as she fought back several tears.

"Why?" Vegeta whispered. In the distance of his mind he heard Trunks yelling, demanding answers, hot and angry tears freely falling. The boy stood between them, and Vegeta realized he was yelling at his mother, his back protectively defending his father. Bulma shook her head, her gaze darting back and forth between the other families that stood much too close and much too interested in his family affairs for Vegeta's comfort. Ignoring her plea's he picked her up in his arms and began flying them back to _their_ house. Trunks followed closely behind as they left the others behind, mouths gaping and concerned whispers in the wind.

Bulma clutched tightly to Vegeta's neck, feeling the muscles tense beneath her fingers and letting the heat cover her completely. She hated flying like this, the pressure of the wind giving her a headache as the chill of the clouds bit and stung her cheeks. Still, when the notion that this might very well be the last time Vegeta held her this close after the talk they were about to have entered her mind, she focused everything on memorizing the feel of his arms around her and his scent of raw masculine musk and pine.

Trunks continued to yell at both his parents, his anger, frustration and confusion spiraling out of control. He couldn't understand what would prompt his mother to say such a thing. He definitely couldn't understand why his father hadn't said anything about it and seemed to just calmly be flying them home, and he couldn't understand why they both felt that if they ignored him long enough he would go away. But he was a part of this family too! And if there was going to be a huge family discussion and choice made he would damn well be sure to be there for it.

Touching down on the grass Vegeta pulled Bulma's arms from around his neck and stood her in front of him. Trunks landed sloppily next to them, continuing his barrage.

"Boy! Shut up." He firmly told Trunks, keeping his eyes trained on his woman. "Your mother and I need to talk. Go and wait for me in the training chambers."

"No." Trunks bit back, his fists tight against his sides. "If this is about the family that includes me! I deserve to be here." His lip wobbled as he glared at both his parents. Bulma turned to Trunks and reached out to lay her hand on his shoulder which he quickly stepped away from. She frowned, stung by the action.

"Sweetheart, we're still a family, we will always be a family. Just let me and your dad talk for a few minutes ok?"

"You told Dad not to come home." He screamed, fresh tears pouring from his eyes. "Why would you tell him that?" Bulma and Vegeta sucked in a sharp breath before turning their attention back to each other.

"Trunks. Do what your mother says. Go. Now."

"Or what? You'll knock me out again and fly off? I don't think so!" Vegeta ground his teeth, tiring of the boy's sass.

"I said GO. Do NOT make me repeat myself again. Understand?" he snarled, letting a fraction of the anger he had been working very hard to contain seep through. Trunks narrowed his eyes and spit on the ground before flying off at speeds too fast for Bulma to keep up with.

Once Vegeta was assured that Trunks was out of hearing distance and safely locking himself in the gravity room he focused his anger back on the female in front of him that not even half an hour ago he had felt elated to see again. The woman he sacrificed himself to save. The woman he had changed so much of his life for – the same woman…he had tried to kill. His anger eased slightly on his chest as he scanned her fully and felt the fear, resistance and worry that radiated from her body.

"I won't hurt you." He said the words without meaning too; surprising himself and her as she rubbed her arms and found an interesting spot in the grass to stare at. He took a step closer to her and immediately stopped when she involuntarily flinched. "Bulma…"

"Vegeta…I…I'm glad you're not dead…again."

"Yes, I gathered as much when you told me you wanted to leave." He snapped, before blushing in embarrassment.

"I don't _want_ you to leave… I just…think…it would be best."

"Best? Best for who exactly? The boy? You? Me? Because from the looks of things now the boy would not really appreciate this arrangement…and I can tell you for damn sure that it wasn't even a consideration on my radar. Which leaves us to this is for you. This is what _you_ want. So don't lie to me so blatantly." Bulma frowned and planted her hands on her hips.

"That's not true. You're the one that doesn't really want to be here. Even if I weren't one already, it doesn't take a genius to see that." He barked out a sarcastic laugh and took another step towards her, again causing her to take one back away.

"Oh really. Then please enlighten me with your genius reasons as to why I am here if I did not want to be? Obviously you know me better than I know myself so go ahead, _Genius_, why is this my idea."

"I didn't say it was your idea Vegeta." She snarled, her fear turning to anger as well. "you never wanted to stay on Earth, you never wanted a family, you never wanted this life…you've never made a choice of your own ever until you went Majin and your first instinct was to kill me! KILL ME! Vegeta! The woman you supposedly care for! It was so easy… so…" tears welled up in her eyes as she hastily brushed them away. Vegeta took a step backwards away from her. "Did I mean nothing to you? After everything… how was it so easy for you to look at me and…if Yamcha hadn't been there –"

"Oh yes, Thank Kami for Scar-face. Whatever would you do in life without _him_ constantly saving your day." The air rippled around them as Vegeta's temper flared into his ki.

"What is that supposed to mean?! Yamcha is just a friend –" Vegeta rolled his eyes.

"Just a friend. Of course. And I'm a pacifist monk. Let's not lie to each other right now Bulma. That will get neither of us anywhere. I'm not as oblivious as I let you think I am. I know that he's been pawing after you for months now. I know that asshole has been trying to worm his way into our bed and kick me out – and I know that you've been letting him."

Bulma clapped both hands over her mouth in outrage, and took two steps further away from him.

"How _dare_ you! I have always chosen you and been faithful! Even when it could have been so easy to have chosen otherwise. With all the time you're away for I could have multiple lovers without you being the wiser! But I have NEVER betrayed you by letting someone into our bed – or going to anyone else's I should add. So screw you for suggesting as much! But if you're _SO_ concerned with other men being in my life then maybe you should make an effort to actually be around instead of running off and training for weeks on end! Do you even realize how impossible it is to have a relationship with someone who's never around?!"

"Never around? I have forced myself to be around! I have changed my entire life to accommodate you and the brat! I have sacrificed EVERYTHING to be here for you and still it's not enough? Will it EVER be enough?!" he screamed, echoing off the side of the building as cars on the road began to slow down and stare out the window.

Bulma nodded in sad agreement.

"That's not fair to you Vegeta." She whispered before taking another step backwards. He raised a confused eye brow towards her. "I want you to be here with me… but…you're doing it for me instead of for you. I need a man who doesn't have to choose to be here, he knows this is where he belongs. Chichi made me see –"

"The clown's wife?! She's the one that started all this?"

"She didn't start anything, she just pointed out that you've never made any of your own choices. It's always been Frieza or me forcing your life on you…if I hadn't gotten pregnant…" she shook her head, choking on the end of the sentence. "I love you so much Vegeta." She whispered and sobbed. He stared after her bewildered, confused as to where this conversation had suddenly gone.

"I did choose you woman. I came back for you. For the boy. Before the Androids…Buu…even in death. Every time."

"Aren't you miserable? I'm giving you the chance to choose your own future right now Vegeta! I'm giving you the chance to go off and start over. Rule the universe. I don't want you to be trapped here with me in this too small life when you deserve so much more."

"You idiot woman." He sighed and ran his hand over his face. "Do you truly think I would stay here if I did not wish it? Do you truly think that you – the weakest female I have ever encountered – really has the _power_ to make me do anything I do not wish to do? I am the Prince of the Saiyans. I am a true warrior capable of defeating any adversaries who dare threaten my home." He took several steps towards her, and she did not retreat. "I have seen hundreds of planets, traveled the stars, and lived on worlds you couldn't begin to imagine. I've lived through torture, humiliation, disaster…witnessed my planet and my family slaughtered by my captor. I have fallen second only to the one man I would even consider calling a friend"

He took several more steps until he stood directly in front of her, taking her face into his hand he brushed the remaining tears from her eyes with his thumb.

"I have picked the most beautiful, and the smartest woman on this planet and made her my own. I have raised a son who is smart, strong, worthy of upholding the Saiyan title. Does that sound like a man who is trapped or settled for a life not of his own choosing?" Silently she shook her head as she leaned into his palm and grinned.

"Bulma Brief. You are my woman, in this life and the next. You are the mother to my son, and the only female worthy of being my Queen in all the universe. Nothing can keep me away from you – not even death. I would choose you every day, every hour, every minute if you asked me. The real question….is would you choose me?"

"Of course I choose you. I love you Vegeta."

"Then prove it to me. Marry me."

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><p><strong>AN:** **Alright, a bit shorter than I intended - but this is a good place to end the chapter :) and I wanted to post something since it's been about a week.**

**Again, thank you so much for reading! Leave me a review and let me know what you think! I appreciate everyone's opinions!**


	12. Warning

**A/N: You guys are the best! :D I absolutely adore reading your reviews about what you think is going to happen, what you want to happen…your opinions on characters – it's the best! I'm doing my best to keep everyone on their toes without going all George R.R. Martin and killing everyone off lol (mostly because in DBZ no one stays dead for long!)**

**On a side note: I'm having a debate in my house – maybe you guys could answer in a review and let me know your opinion. My husband and I were watching DBZ: Battle of the Gods again for the 100****th**** time, and it finally clicked "Where's Bra?!" On the last episode of DBZ they made it seem like Bra was 4 or 5 while Pan was 3 or 4… and in GT they definitely made it seem that Bra (or Bulla) was 12-14 while Pan was 9-11… BUT in BOTG *spoiler alert* Videl is obviously pregnant and Bra is nowhere to be seen!**

**My husband says Pan is obviously older and Bra just develops faster because she's Bulma's daughter … I'm hoping that maybe Baby Bra was just being baby sat by Grandma and Grandpa Brief's during the movie… **

**Opinions?**

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><p>Trunks slammed the door to the gravity room with as much force as he could muster. Unfortunately for the young prince, his mother had years ago installed a magnetic mechanism that prevented the door from just that very motion. Instead of the gratifying slam of metal on metal he'd hoped for, the door slowly shut with a delicate click. Letting out a yell of annoyance the boy lashed out and kicked the metal, crushing his toes and leaping back in pain. The room truly was built to be Saiyan proof and as Trunks stomped around in circles trying to walk off the pain he couldn't help but think he would feel better if he had something to destroy. Is that what why his father came in here every time he was upset? To avoid destroying the entire city?<p>

Thinking of his father made the boy choke back another sob. There was no way his mother would really kick his dad out…right? Sure, they fought. A lot. Sure, neither of them were very good at expressing how they felt… sure, they seemed to spend more time apart than together…but so what! They just had a very busy family.

It wasn't that Trunks had anything against split households… he knew plenty of kids at his school that had divorced parents. They led perfectly normal lives and even talked about how they had two of almost everything. Two Christmases, two birthday parties, to Thanksgivings…

But Trunks knew his family wasn't typical even in the basic sense. If his parents split… would his father even bother to try and see him anymore? Would he have to choose between staying with his Mom or his Dad? Could he even make that choice?!

So he paced. He fumed. He tried punching at the air and found it did nothing for him. He grumbled, griped, and even let a few of the words he knew his mother would punish him for slip out of his mouth. Storming over to the gravity controls he tried punching in multiple series of numbers to no avail.

"Stupid locked code…I come in here with Dad all the time. Why won't they just give me my own numbers…" he mumbled before storming off to the living section to try and find something to eat. Maybe having something in his stomach would help with the rage. As he strode purposefully to the fridge his stomach knotted at the picture of himself as a baby proudly sitting in the center. His cheeks flared in embarrassment as he noticed the picture of his mother and quickly pull the door open to scan the contents inside.

It wasn't long before he was crinkling his nose, the smell of rotten food hitting him like a truck making him quickly shut it again. Obviously the bots had not stopped in here recently to clean out the old food, and by the looks of it the milk had definitely curdled. Immediately giving up on the idea of a snack to calm himself down he turned to the bed that rarely was ever used and flopped down, covering his eyes with his arm in a dramatic fashion.

It just didn't make any sense.

Taking a few deep breaths he tried to calm himself down. Between the last few weeks, fighting with Buu, learning the fusion technique, dying and being brought back to life… all he'd wanted was the family reunion everyone else was having. Goten had no problems being smothered with hugs and kisses from his mother and brother… yeah, he was just starting to get to know his own father but…at least they were all together. 18 and Krillin were busy hugging and kissing Marron…all Trunks wanted was a little of the same! Instead his mother dropped his bomb on them.

It wasn't fair!

Rolling to his side to face the stark white wall the boy fought between anger and sadness as he tried to imagine what the adults were discussing outside. He could feel his father's energy raise and lower back down over and over… but at least he was still on the compound. As long as he didn't feel his father flying off things could still be ok…right? He sighed. Maybe they were both too stubborn to fix this themselves… kami Trunks was aware that getting his mother to admit any fault was like pulling a tooth from a lion…and his father? Never had he heard his father so much as imply he was anything but absolutely in the right. That's why they needed Trunks there! He was the level headed one in the family! He was the one that reminded them of the good times and the reasons they should stick it out together. He was a born problem solver after all… wasn't it he who came up with the schemes to get he and Goten out of trouble? Wasn't he the one who figured out how to adjust their power levels to fuse properly? Wasn't it he who came up with the special attacks meant to kill Buu? He was sure it was him!

He flipped over again, his brain racing with how to help his parents fix this current problem they found themselves in. A crumpled piece of paper on the floor next to the garbage can caught his eye. Lazily he stretched his arm out to try and grab at it but quickly realized he was a few inches too short. Sighing he rolled himself off the bed and crawled until his hands could easily grab it. Sliding the rest of his body down onto the floor he began opening it and flattening as many of the crinkles as he could.

"Mom?" his eyes grew wide as he with bewilderment he looked down at the black and white photograph of a woman that was clearly his mother in the arms of a man that, as he squinted to get a clearer look, was clearly _not_ his father.

Frowning in disapproval he quickly scanned the article, trying to understand if the photograph was just as it appeared to be or not. His mother had warned him time and time again that the paparazzi would be following their family for many years, and that most of the time what they printed was simply not true.

But the picture…

Shoving the evidence in his pocket he stood back on his feet with a new purpose. He knew exactly who he had to talk to and how he was going to fix his family.

Opening the door to the gravity room and sticking his head outside he used his Ki to reach out and feel for his parents energies. Sensing they were still out on the front yard he turned his attention to the back window, sliding it open and jumping onto the edge. Taking one last look back to make sure no one had noticed his current movements he blasted off into the air as fast as his little body would take him.

He could faintly remember when his father had taught him to fly. He'd just finished mastering walking when his dad would pull him in the air, holding him by the back of his shirt and flying low and lazy in circles until Trunks was able to keep his body in the right position and balance himself. If he flipped forward too much he quickly learned he would smash his head on the ground, and if he tried to stand up his feet would drag, burning against the grass. It had been hard, a bit painful, but effective. Goten hadn't learned until he was almost 8 and by then Trunks could fly around the world in a matter of minutes. He was fast for a kid, hell – he was fast for a Saiyan.

It was the one thing his father rarely had to train him on bettering himself.

Reaching down into his core he grabbed a spark of energy effortlessly and surged forward at blinding speeds. When he touched down on the back deck, his anger wavered for a moment as memories came back to him of days in the past where family life had been a bit more complicated. His father had been absent a lot. Training off on his own either in the gravity room for weeks on end, taking off to space, always striving for more for himself and in the cross fire – neglecting his son. It had been Yamcha to show him the basics. Walking, flying, Ki blasting… it had been Yamcha to introduce him to the human cultural activities and father and son were supposed to do together that Vegeta had refused to do. Baseball, football, going to the beach and the park, teaching him how to ride a bike… It hadn't been until Trunks was starting school that something changed and Vegeta decided to be a more active father. Declaring that if Trunks was going to be training, he would train properly by a warrior – not from a would be bandit. Since then he'd rarely seen Yamcha around the house and had since assumed he didn't want to see him anymore.

The boy debated inside himself. He wanted to beat this man to a pulp for the situation his family now faced. He wanted him to apologize for ruining everything. But…he knew he wouldn't be able to. Out of sheer respect for what the man had done for him growing up…_in fact, _Trunks rationalized, _if he hadn't been around Dad would never have gotten jealous enough to want to teach me himself I bet…_

"Trunks? You going to come inside or just stay out there a while longer?" he heard a voice call from inside the house. Trunks blushed, crossing his arms over his chest looking very much like a smaller Vegeta before he confidently strode into the house.

Ge glanced around the living room, taking in the changes that had been made since he'd last been over a few years ago. The couch was new, a leather sectional facing a giant television screen. The old black carpet had been redone to a classic beige and he believed a wall or two had been knocked out.

Yamcha sat at his kitchen bar, a drink in his hand that made Trunks sneeze as his sensitive nose picked up the heavy scent of Brandy. The man looked tired, heavy bags had started pulling under his eyes and the light gray seemed to be heavier on the sides than he'd remembered. Turning his head an inch he noticed the dirty shoes hastily discarded and left in the middle of the floor. _He must have just gotten home _Trunks thought to himself.

The older man silently watched as the young boy took stock of the environment. _A tactical training his father had instilled in him_ _no doubt_ he thought with a hint of jealousy. In another world, another time Trunks could have been his son. If he hadn't left Bulma so often…if he hadn't been tempted by all those girls who'd been after his money when he was much younger… if Vegeta had just stayed away in space for a little while longer…

Trunks was angry about something, but also nervous. Yamcha stretched his back, feeling his muscles strain and argue the use and mentally sighed. He had been looking forward to coming home, soaking in a bath and then sleeping for a week. But it seemed that he wouldn't be having the relaxing afternoon he'd envisioned for himself as soon as he'd been wished back to life by the dragon balls. The magic always seemed to affect him worse than the others he'd found. Maybe it was because he was human… maybe it was because he was one of the oldest members of their party… whatever the reason it seemed that every time he was brought back to life got just a touch harder and forced him to rest just a bit longer.

"Do you want something to drink? I should have some juice if you're thirsty?" he offered, hoping to start Trunks talking about why he was here.

"No. I don't want to stay long I just…" he cast his eyes to the floor for a moment. Thinking, before scowling deeply and refocusing his anger. "Why do you hate my Dad?"

Yamcha choked on the amber liquid now burning his throat as he set the glass down roughly on the counter.

"Hate your Dad? What would make you think that?" Trunks didn't miss the way his fingers nervously shifted on the glass though.

"Why else would you be trying to break my family up? It has to be that you hate my Dad. After all he's done to protect this earth and save us all from disaster after disaster…what has he ever done to you!" Yamcha held Trunks' angry gaze and couldn't decide if the kid was serious or not. Cracking a small smile he chuckled once before noticing the glare had become murderous on the boys face.

"Trunks…maybe you should talk to your Mom about this stuff. I don't think I'm the right person to explain to you –"

"You're the one that was in the photos with Mom with your tongue practically down her throat so I think you're _exactly_ the right person to explain to me." He hadn't expected that.

"Look… sometimes adults do things that don't make sense to kids…but your Mom and I…well…despite what you say in those photos, she's made it very clear that she picked your Dad over me." Pushing away from the bar Yamcha walked around the other side to lean against it as her surveyed the boy. He wasn't sure how much, or what exactly the child knew at this point of his mother and fathers past… but he knew for damn certain that Bulma would personally kill him if he revealed too much.

"Then why is she kicking him out of the house!" Trunks practically screamed, balling his fists against his sides he struggled to contain his emotions and remember that he was here for answers, not accusations.

"She…what?" Yamcha's heart stopped beating, or perhaps started beating too hard – he couldn't quite tell.

"I want to know why you hate my Dad so much! Why do you want to break my family apart!"

"Wait, Trunks – she kicked Vegeta out? When did this happen?" He took a few steps towards the little prince but Trunks slowly let his power seep out just enough to leave a warning to the other man to stay back. It was a stand off, both wanting answers – both un-willing to move forward. Finally after several heavy moments Yamcha sighed and ran his hands over his face, and through his hair. "I didn't want to break your family a part Trunks… I just…want to _be_ your family." Trunks powered down, his eyes widening a fraction in surprise.

"So you _do_ hate my Dad…"

"I'd be lying to you if I said I liked the guy…or trusted him… or even could stand being in the same room as him…but no, I don't _hate_ your Dad. Not anymore at least." Trunks shifted from foot to foot, opting to cross his arms over his chest again.

"But why?"

"That…should be up to your parents to talk to you about. Let's just … leave it as the three of us have a bit of a history together…and if he'd never come to this planet there's a good chance that _I_ would have been your father, not Vegeta."

"I know you and Mom used to date." He rolled his eyes. "Dad likes to remind her she upgraded at least once a week." Yamcha frowned but kept his mouth shut. "But…everything was fine until a few months ago. You showed back up and suddenly my family is falling apart. Dad goes on a psychotic killing rampage, everyone gets turned into Candy and eaten, and now Mom is…she's…" Trunks eyes filled with unspilled tears. "She told Dad not to come home with us."

"Trunks…I'm sorry about that. But…it's not because of me." Yamcha struggled to keep the victory smile off his face and his feet planted instead of rushing over to Bulma's house.

"Of course it's because of you! I saw the article of you two dancing! They were fine before that!" Trunks bit his lip angrily. "You will **NEVER** be my father Yamcha."

"Trunks –"

"No. I'm not finished." Yamcha stared down at the boy that was barely half his height and yet somehow made himself seem much older and scarier. "You stay away from my Mom. She is _**NOT**_ yours." Yamcha's eyes widened as Vegeta's face suddenly seemed to appear before him. If it hadn't been for the lavender hair he would have sworn it was the Saiyan Prince himself delivering the threat.

Without another word Trunks turned and blasted out of the house into the sky.

Yamcha continued to stand against the bar. Bulma had kicked Vegeta out? What did this mean? The last time they had spoken she'd rejected him…telling him she loved Vegeta even after everything he'd put her through. But now…

He thought of how angry Trunks had been. He'd be foolish to rush over there right now after everything and try to win her back… but… checking in on a friend wasn't awful right?

Making up his mind he bent over to grab the shoes from the middle of the floor, groaning as his back protested the motion.

He would just check on her and be a shoulder for her to cry on.

He grinned to himself. Miss Bulma Brief's wouldn't be crying for long if he had anything to do about it.


	13. Inferior

**A/N: I finally got my Vegeta and Super Saiyan Goku Pop Animation figures :D They're adorable and currently have a proud spot on my office desk lol who do we contact to get them to make a Bulma and Trunks one?! **

**Also – how does everyone feel so far about Dragonball Super? True – it's not in English yet, but we've been watching the Japanese with subtitles… so far we like it, I'm torn about how I feel that he basically is ignoring DBBOTG and re-telling the entire movie in a different structure…but…ah well. I thought episode 2 was cute "Vegeta's family trip". So far though, just lots of filler, no real action yet. Let me know what you think about it so far!**

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><p>Bulma stared at Vegeta wide eyed – unsure she had heard the man correctly. Blinking hard a few times she let it sink into her head, checking over to see if there was something she had missed. <em>Was he confused?<em> She wondered. _Does he even __**know**__ what marriage is? _

Vegeta stared back at his woman. Momentarily worried she'd finally snapped. Her eyes glazed over and she looked…stunned silent. Had he mis-spoken? Was she not constantly prattling on to her mother about this stupid human ritual of marriage? Is that not something she wanted for them? Concern rapidly turned to annoyance as he waited for her to answer him. It had already been thirty seconds of complete silence and he refused to let her continue to stand there like a brain dead fish without giving him her acceptance or refusal!

"So?...Do you agree or not?" he forced his voice to remain calm though his jaw was tense.

Bulma blinked again.

"You…want us to… you and me – married? You…Vegeta…the _Prince of all Saiyans_ – Mr. _Earth-customs-are-stupid _is … you're –"

"Yes!" he shouted, planting his hands on his hips, more nervous with every second that he had made a fool of himself and she would still cast him out. The tips of his ears began turning red as he ground his teeth together. "I won't say it a third time – Will you marry me or not!"

Bulma blinked again.

Then she frowned.

Then she scowled.

"Well is that any way to ask a lady! God Vegeta! I've only been waiting for years for you to ask me and this is my giant romantic proposal?! Yelling at me in the front lawn?!" She cocked a hip out and crossed her arms across her chest as she fought to maintain her glare. Inside she felt she could fly! But she wouldn't let him see how happy she actually was just yet.

Vegeta smirked, recognizing the gleam in her eye as the playful banter they both thrived on.

"The fact that I'm asking you at all is pretty damn near romantic woman. Now give me an answer or I'll be forced to retract my offer and leave you an old spinster woman."

"Old!" she shrieked. "I'll have you know buddy that for an earth woman I look damn good! Do you know how many men would _kill_ to have a chance to be with me?"

"One. Me." He laughed and her eyes widened as she realized that yes, Vegeta literally would, and had kill men to be with her. The thought was terrifying – and exciting. When his laughter died down she took a few steps towards him until her chest barely brushed against his.

"I'll marry you, you big brute… Where else am I going to find another warrior prince after all?" she pressed her lips to his and he returned the soft kiss, relishing the feel of her against him tenderly. Tracing his jaw line with her finger tips she pulled him tight, unwilling to ever let him go again. "There's one thing though…" she whispered into his mouth.

"Hn." He grunted back

"Where's my ring?" pulling back she wiggled her hand in front of him emphasizing the lack of a diamond. Vegeta stared at her, slipping on the blank mask he wore when he was caught off guard and unfamiliar with a particular bit of Earth culture. "You need to get me a ring Vegeta. It's what symbolizes that we're committed to each other and only each other." Horror flashed over his face.

"I am NOT wearing jewelry woman. I made that mistake with Kakarott and will NOT do it ever again."

"No, not you…just me." She chuckled before smacking him on the chest. "You need to go to the store and pick me out a ring to make this marriage official!" Vegeta sighed and looked over her shoulder towards the compound behind Bulma. He had the depressing feeling that nothing he could do or say would get him in the house to sleep before he got the woman her damn ring.

Bulma saw his brain racing and decided to bail her _fiancé_ out. Just this once.

"Just go to Exquisite Diamonds in the city and tell them you're picking up the order for me… give them your name. I had them put something on hold a few years ago waiting for this day."

Vegeta blinked.

Then he frowned.

Then he scowled.

"You presumptuous woman…for years now you've just kept jewelry on hold for the day you assumed I would ask you this question?" She grinned and winked before giving him another kiss on the cheek.

"Consider it…hopeful confidence. Now go – get it – come back – and then we can celebrate the fact that none of us are dead, the world is safe once again thanks to you, and our recent engagement." She kissed him again, lingering a bit longer than normal as the promise of a lustful celebration lingered in the air between them. He growled again as she pulled away and sauntered into the house, leaving Vegeta on the lawn, _very_ frustrated.

"Vulgar woman…" he smirked before taking off into the air towards the damned store she'd specified.

* * *

><p>\<p>

Trunks flew home as fast as he could, hoping to catch his parents before anything permanent was decided. He could still feel his fathers energy by his mother when suddenly she began to walk away and he felt his father fly off away from the house.

"NO!" he screamed to no one in particular. Thinking quickly he knew he had a choice to make… he could follow his father, convince him to stay and the two of them could work on changing his mothers mind… or he could go home and convince her to take his father back. The boy groaned, not wanting to do either option – but feeling that it was up to him to save his family. If his parents were going to act like children, then the children would have to act like the parents.

He pushed forward, straining for more speed. He was fast…his father would always be faster. And faster could mean more distance. His mom may be smarter…but she was pretty much stuck where they left her.

Turning slightly to the left he locked onto his father's energy and fly after him hoping the man wasn't planning on leaving Earth before he could get his two cents in.

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><p>Vegeta landed with a rush of air in the middle of the street causing several cars to slam on their breaks almost hitting each other, while several nearby pedestrians shrieked and ducked into nearby door frames. He glared at the man staring at him behind the driver's wheel a moment before stalking off looking for this damn shop. He hated shopping. He hated large crowds of humans. He hated talking to sales people as they tried to negotiate a price. But the woman had insisted she needed this, and so – to prove himself…he would get it for her. He'd been wandering the streets for several minutes, his anger rising at every fearful glance by the humans, every gasp of terror as they moved away from him and the fact that he suddenly realized with a bit of embarrassment that he had no idea where this damn store was located when his lavender haired child flew into him at high speed. Vegeta stumbled forward, nearly tripping over himself as Trunks clung to his back, wrapping his arms around his neck screaming incoherently.<p>

"BOY!" Vegeta reached behind his back and gripped Trunk's shirt collar, roughly pulling him over his head to stand in front of him, forcing a few deep breaths to calm back down. People stood in a wide circle around them watching in fascination and horror at the father and son super human combo.

"Dad you can't go!" Trunks sobbed angrily before his father could get a word in. "I know Mom said to but you can't!" Vegeta frowned and crossed his arms across his chest, confused at the outburst. Did the woman sent the boy? Had she really changed her mind that quickly?

"What do you mean? The woman just told me to go!"

"I know! But…you just can't. It's not right! She doesn't know what she's talking about right now!" The Saiyan rolled his eyes but kept his agitation in check at the expression of pure worry in Trunk's eyes. His woman hadn't changed her mind after all.

"While I'd like to agree with that statements many times over, in this scenario I have no doubt she knows better than you or I would." He began to walk around Trunks when the boy grabbed his arm and trotted next to him.

"Dad you can't be serious! You're really just going to listen to her? You NEVER listen to her!"

"Well then who do you suggest I take advice from? This isn't exactly an area I'm familiar with." He begrudgingly admitted.

"You don't need to listen to anyone else Dad…just…just do what you want! You can't let Mom make this decision without any say from you or me! It's just not fair!" Vegeta glanced at his son in suspicion.

"So…you want to have a say then? That's what this is all about?"

"YES!" the boy nearly fell to his knees in exasperation as one of his parents FINALLY decided to listen to him.

"Fine. If you can stop squalling until we get there I'll let you help in deciding." Crossing his arms he began walking again occasionally glancing up towards the street signs looking for the jewelry shop. "You're as bad as your mother you know that? Squawking until you get what you want." Trunks silently followed behind, a small grin crept on his face.

They walked several more blocks. Stopping twice so Vegeta could indulge in some of the food the vendors sold on the streets – for free of course. When they finally stopped Trunks looked up at the store before glancing at his father.

"Dad…this is a jewelry store." Vegeta shot his son a look.

"I know that boy. I'm not an illiterate moron." Trunks scratched his head as his father opened the door and strode inside.

"I don't get it." He said, following closely behind. "Mom kicks you out and you're getting her jewelry?" The sales man behind the counter perked his ears in interest, smelling a sale from a mile away.

"Your mother did not kick me out. We had a discussion and she saw how stupid she was being. I'm here to pick up something of hers she's had on hold." He grumbled. A loud thud behind him caused Vegeta to quickly turn around – only to find his son laying on the floor. The tips of his ears reddened as he felt all eyes point in his direction. "Boy! Get up this instant!"

Trunks began laughing before springing up and launching himself back onto his father's chest, wrapping his arms around his neck.

"We're still a family! Oh thank Kami! I thought…when I saw you flying away…" Vegeta grunted and pulled the manic child off of him.

"Trunks. Is that what you thought was happening? That we weren't going to be a family anymore?" The boy nodded and Vegeta swallowed hardly, torn between the new desire to sooth his son's worries that he would never be left alone again…and his pride of keeping his emotions to himself. He shook his head, patted the boy on the shoulder once and turned his attention to the portly, balding man behind the counter.

"Good afternoon sir! Please, how may we help you today?" Vegeta raised an eye brow. This was the first human to speak to him without an air of terror…besides Bulma of course.

"My woman tells me there is an item here I'm to pick up for her."

"Oh? Wonderful! What is the name?"

"Bulma Brief." The man choked on his tongue.

"Ms. Brief?! She… you're here to collect the package for Ms. Brief?" Vegeta glared and the man gulped before skirting off to the back room. Moments later he returned, a giant blue velvet box cradled in his hand as if it were a newborn. "We'd almost given up on the idea that anyone would ever come to pick this up!" he whispered in awe. Vegeta crossed his arms across his chest, growing extremely impatient. "Would you like to see it?"

"Must I?" the man stared blankly back at Vegeta, unsure how to respond though his face held extreme shock. "Fine. Open the box."

As the lid was lifted Vegeta frowned. It was gigantic, it was brilliantly sparkled set on an elaborate gold band encased in several smaller – though no less magnificent – diamonds. It was eccentric; it was over the top… it wasn't Bulma. At least, not the Bulma he'd come to know. Perhaps the Bulma from years back had been a spoiled little princess who would have a need for such luxuries…but _his_ Bulma… his Bulma had traveled space. Had built machines capable of rivaling the strength of even the strongest Saiyan warriors, had built a time machine to save the past…no, his Bulma was practical, logical, a mental warrior. Not a spoiled Princess.

And yet…she would be _his_ Princess. Had planet Vegeta survived he had no doubt she would have made a fearsome Queen by his side.

"No." he said, pushing the box back towards the man. "This is not the right one."

"I assure you sir," the salesman insisted. "This is the one Ms. Brief picked out years ago. We've been holding onto it for her specifically." He pushed the box back.

"No." Vegeta fought the urge to flick the box, knowing it would be sent flying through a few buildings. "It's too much. I want something a bit more… logical."

"Sir, it's already paid for if that's what you're worried about." Vegeta rolled his eyes. Yes, he knew his woman had money – and he was well aware that any money he did spend came from her anyways…but he hated the implication that he himself was broke. He was – but he hated when people implied it.

"I don't give a damn about the money. I want a ring that is befitting of my woman. I want something else."

"Dad!" Trunks had his nose pushed up against the glass in a cabinet across the room to the horror of the salesmen in the store. "How about this one!" Vegeta stepped over to his son and inspected the ring that Trunks was fixated on.

It was much simpler, a silver band with woven vines that wrapped around a diamond half the size of the original ring. It sparkled with a million colors and reminded him of some of the rocks he had found on other planets from a life time ago.

"You think she'd like this one?" he asked the boy. Trunks nodded enthusiastically.

Vegeta grinned at the ashen man behind the counter, noting how much cheaper the ring the two men were now interested in.

"There goes my new boat…" he grumbled as he pulled the new ring out and laid it, rather roughly on the counter. Vegeta held it up to his eyes, scrutinizing it before glancing down at Trunks once more. The boy smiled happily and nodded.

"We'll take this one."

* * *

><p>Bulma hummed to herself happily as she flipped through the third bridal magazine she could lay her hands on. It had only taken minutes after Vegeta flew off to pick up her ring that she bee-lined it for the secret stash of bridal gear she'd put away over the past two years. Marker in hand she began circling dresses, flowers and cakes as she turned each page silently debating with herself if she'd prefer a winter or summer wedding. She glanced at her watch and sighed. Vegeta should be back any time now and then they could both go and tell Trunks the good news. She glanced towards the ceiling at Trunk's bedroom. She hadn't wanted to go up and bother him just yet, not without Vegeta by her side to assure the boy that they weren't breaking apart after all but knowing he was up there, upset, ate at her stomach.<p>

When the doorbell rang she pushed her magazine to the side and grabbed her check book. She'd ordered several pizza's for a quick dinner, knowing they were Trunk's favorite and hoping to smooth over any lingering hurt feelings.

"Hello." She greeted as she opened the door, her smile quickly fading to surprise at the sight of an extremely disheveled Yamcha in her doorway. She hadn't seen him much during the Buu incidents…more or less focusing her entire energy on her soon to be husband and son – but the man looked like he'd fought a war and barely made it out.

"Hello B." he smirked and she felt her inside crawl. His voice was course, and a touch of alcohol coated his lips still. He needed food, a shower and sleep – that was obvious. "Trunks told me what happened… I'm so sorry to hear about Vegeta."

"Trunks…what? Trunks went to see you? When!" turning she ran to the stairs scolding herself for not thinking about the fact that her son could fly out of third story windows. She sprinted, climbing two at a time until she reached outside the boys bedroom door. Throwing it open she gasped when she saw it was empty. "Damn it Trunks!" she cursed turning back to the hallway with the intention of asking Yamcha why Trunks had gone to him of all people and gasped when she bumped into the man's chest. She stumbled backwards into the room and he took a few steps after her his hands out in surrender.

"I just wanted to tell you that… if you need anything…anyone…I'm here for you…I know how you must be feeling right now…" Bulma scowled.

"You don't know anything Yamcha…I don't know what Trunks told you but it isn't what happened."

"No? You don't have to pretend with me Bulma. It's alright." He opened his arms wider to hug her and she instinctively put her arms up to push him away. He was a friend – yes, but he was dead on his feet and not thinking clearly – and the last thing she wanted was Vegeta to come home and see her in this man's arms. he easily caught her arm with his reflexes and held them above her head, moving as if he would drape them around her neck.

"Yamcha, I'm serious. You shouldn't be here." She growled against his laughing eyes. Trying to yank her arms free from his hold, biting her lip to keep from yelling out at the bit of pain that tore through her wrists. She was so accustomed to Vegeta and Trunks minding their strength around her that Yamcha's grip seemed too constricting, too forceful. "Vegeta won't be happy about you being here."

_He doesn't know what he's doing. He's exhausted and probably a bit buzzed… I just need to get him to let me go…_

"Are you sure he's even coming back B? I mean, I don't feel his energy anywhere around here. For all we know he could have blasted off into space again."

"No, he went in to town for me! He's coming back any minute!" She wiggled again and he let her arms fall, she immediately rubbed at her wrist noticing the red imprints of his fingers.

"Trunks told me that you kicked him out. I'm just trying to be a friend Bulma! I just want to make sure you're ok."

"I told you – Trunks was mistaken. We worked it out and things are better than ever." She crossed her arms and took another step away, quickly trying to think of a way to get him out of the house. "Yamcha…please…if you care about me at all – you'll go. Just…leave."

"I do care about you." He whispered, moving closer and grabbing her arms holding her so she couldn't move away from him again. "Very much. As a friend and always as the love of my life. Don't you care about me at all? Don't you love me even just a little?"

"Yamcha… you'll always be my first love – but you're not my true love. I love Vegeta and we're going to get married." His face paled.

"Married?! You're going to MARRY him?! You're kidding right?" he squeezed her arms and she yelped in pain feeling the pressure down through her bones.

"Yamcha let go of me!" her voice cracked from pain as she tried to shake him off, the anger giving way to a bit of fear as she wondered if he would actually physically hurt her – accidentally or not.

"I agree with my mom." Trunks growled from the door way, his hair glowing a brilliant gold while his eyes shone bright and turquoise. Yamcha spun around and gulped – taking a few steps away into the corner of the room. Bulma trotted over to her son and dropped down on to a knee in front of him.

"Trunks, it's ok sweetie…look, I'm fine. You don't have to go super right now." His eyes continued to stay locked on Yamcha – like a lion hunting a wounded gazelle.

"I warned him not to come here."

Before she could blink the boy had flown and grabbed the man by his shirt and flown them outside away from the building.

"Trunks, I didn't come to start anything! I just wanted to check on your mom after what you told me –"

"What I _**told**_ you was to STAY – AWAY – FROM – MY – MOM!" letting his hand open Yamcha didn't have time to brace himself before beginning to fall. Trunks was under him in less than a second sending a well-timed kick straight to his stomach sending him soaring back into the air. Yamcha yelled out, the pain tearing through his already weakened body.

Fury blinded the boy, a thirst for vengeance and respect from this…_human_ who didn't do as he was told!

Trunks phased around him faster than Yamcha was able to keep up as blow after blow struck his face, his chest, his stomach, back, legs… over and over again the lightning punches and kicks sent bone shattering pain through the older man's body as he pathetically tried to defend himself.

It was barely a full minute before he completely gave up – falling to the ground in a pile of bruises, blood and tears…watching in horror as the brilliant golden boy slowly descended from the sky over him. A small concentrated energy beam gathering on the palm of his hand as he aimed it straight for Yamcha.

"You…you're just like your father. You know that?" Yamcha coughed, the effort to speak shredding his lungs from the inside. "If you kill me…you'll be no better than the monster that he is…" he closed his eyes and lay back on the grass. Defeated in every possible way.

"Thank you." He grinned, letting the energy grow until it hummed with the power of pure Saiyan fury. "I can think of no higher compliment."

With a flick of the wrist he let it go.

Yamcha saw black and nothing more.

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><p><strong>AN: Well I wanted this to be a light and fun chapter since it's been a lot of doom and gloom! But the end...I need it to go this way for the next few chapters so don't give up on the story just yet!**

Husband and I saw DBZ: F - one word - INCREDIBLE!

**Thank you again for reading! Please leave me a review on what you think! **


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